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REESE  LIBRARY 

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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

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SCHOOLBOY   DAYS   IN   FRANCE 


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OF  THE 
IVERSITY/ 
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EVERY    ARM    WAS    RAISED. 


SCHOOLBOY  DAYS 

IN    FRANCE 


BY 


ANDRE    LAURIE 


TRANSLATED   BY   E.    P.    ROBINS 


(TJNIVERSITY) 


Illustrate* 


BOSTON 
ESTES  AND  LAURIAT 

PUBLISHERS 


.   G 


1 


Copyright,  1896, 
BY  ESTES  AND  LAURIAT 


Colonial  Press: 

C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co.,  Boston,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 
Electrotyped  by  Geo.  C.  Scott  &  Sons 


XTNIVERSITT 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.      BlLLANCOUKT 9 

II.     To   MONSIEUR   JACQUES   BAUDOUIN,  AT  BOURGAS,  NEAR 

CHATILLON-SUR-LEZE 23 

III.  MY   FRIEND  MOLECULE.  —  A    MISPRIZED   POET.  —  LECA- 

CHEY  SHOWS  His  COLOURS.  — TRONC-DE-CONE    .     .  34 

IV.  To  MONSIEUR  ALBERT  BESNARD,  AT  THE  LYCEE  MON- 

TAIGNE, PARIS 47 

V.     THE  CAGNOTTE.  —  A  PHILOSOPHER 55 

VI.  LEGE  Qu^so 64 

VII.  'ANATKH      ....     ."  v   ?...., 75 

VIII.    THE  VENGEANCE  OF  VERSCHUREN 86 

IX.     BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL  OF  MOLIERE 97 

X.     APPROACH  OF  AUTUMN.  —  CAN  I  BELIEVE  MY  EYES?  .     .  113 

XI.     THE  MUSEUM  OF  THE  LOUVRE 125 

XII.     WINTER   SPORTS. — THINGS  TALKED  OF   IN  THE  PLAY- 
GROUND.—  A  BEGINNING  OF  REHABILITATION.  —  OF 

THE  DANGER  OF  FENCING  WITHOUT  A  MASK     ...  138 

XIII.  A  NEW  PROFESSOR 158 

XIV.  RISE  AND  FALL  OF  THE  SPECTRE-STUDENT 179 

XV.     IN   THE   PRINCIPAL'S  ROOM.  —  THE  LECACHEY  FAMILY. 

—  A  PETITION 192 

XVI.     THE  PROPER  METHOD  OF  TEACHING   HISTORY.  —  CON- 

CIONES  LATINS.  —  MR.  MURCHISON'S  IDEAS. —  EASTER. 

—  PANADA 205 

XVII.     IN  DEEP  WATER 222 

XVIII.     EXAMINATIONS.  —  How  KINDRED  SPIRITS  MEET     .     .    .  233 

XIX.    CONTAINING  MANY  SURPRISES 248 

XX.     OLYMPIC  GAMES  REVIVED.  —  THE  DUCK  DINNER    ...  261 

XXI.     AUNT  AUBERT'S  IRE 281 

XXII.       AT  THE    SORBONNE.  —  A    BUNCH  OF  PRIZES.  — LATEST    IN- 
TELLIGENCE.—  CONCLUSION 295 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 
"EVERY  ARM  WAS  RAISED" Frontispiece 

HEAD- PIECE  TO  CHAPTER  1 9 

"'WHAT  Is  THAT?'  SAID  AUNT  AUBERT" 15 

"THE  OFFICE,  THE  STUDY,  THE  PARLOUR  OF  M.  LE  CONCIERGE"  25 

"'MY  SUBJECT  Is  —  TOBACCO!'" 39 

"THE  GIANT  Is  ATTACKED  CLOSE  TO  THE  GROUND"    ....  51 

"As  FOR  ME,  I  WAS  DUMFOUNDED" 71 

"THE   FIRST   DAY   I   STROLLED  UP  THE  CHAMPS   ELYSE'ES   IN 

ALL  THE  GLORY  OF  MY  NEW  CLOTHES" Si 

"'BROTHER,  No  ONE  MAY  SNORE  IN  THE  DORMITORY'".     .    .  95 

"SOMETHING    IN    ME    SEEMS    TO    HAVE    GlVEN    WAY"        ....  IO; 

"MOLECULE'S  LITTLE  LEGS  GAVE  WAY  BENEATH  HIM"  ...  115 

"THE  VENUS  OF  MILO  APPEARED  BEFORE  THEM" 133 

"  VERSCHUREN  ATTACKED  WITH  SUCH  VIGOUR" 153 

"M.  PELLERIN  QUICKLY  PUT  Us  AT  OUR  EASE".     .....  167 

"  M.  DESBANS  COLLARING  THOMEREAU  "    .     .     ." 187 

"'CRESTFALLEN  AS  A  FOX  MADE  PRISONER  BY  A  HEN'"     .    .195 
"MOLECULE    BROUGHT    OUT    THE    NUMBER    1132.      IT    WAS 

MINE!  " 219 

"!T  WAS  AN  ARMY  OF  SWEEPS  AND  SCAVENGERS" 231 

"  WE  CAME  OUT  ON  THE  PLACE  GERSON  " 235 

"BAUDOUIN  TOOK  ME  IN  His  ARMS  AND  HUGGED  ME"  ...  257 

"  POLLUX  WAS  'DOWNED;'  THE  FACT  WAS  INCONTESTABLE"   .  273 

'*'!  SHALL  TAKE  ALBERT  WITH  ME,  UNDERSTAND! '"  ....  291 

"BAUDOUIN  BROKE  THE  SEAL  AND  READ  ALOUD" 303 


SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN   FRANCE. 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


CHAPTER  I. 

BILLANCOURT. 


THIS  book  will  serve  to  give  inchoate  collegians  a  fore- 
taste of  the  life  that  is  in  store  for  them  as  "  big 
boys,"  in  the  schoolboy  acceptation  of  the  term,  and  also 
an  idea  of  the  distance  that  parts  an  urchin  of  the  sixth 
form  from  that  important  individual,  a  candidate  for  an 
A.  B.  degree. 

Our  narrative  opens  in  a  salon,  furnished  with  some  pre- 
tension to  elegance,  on  the  first  floor  of  a  Parisian  villa, 
standing  by  itself  in  the  middle  of  a  great  lawn  and  flower 
beds,  on  the  Quai  de  Billancourt. 

In  front  and  at  a  distance  of  a  hundred  paces  the  Seine 
propels  its  gentle  tide  under  the  vessels  floating  on  its 


10  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

bosom,  between  two  rows  of  quivering  poplars  and  past 
the  lie  Seguin.  To  the  left  and  somewhat  in  the  rear  are 
three  five-story  structures,  overtopped  by  a  tall  chimney 
from  which  pour  clouds  of  smoke.  Along  the  tow-path 
are  mountains  of  pink  and  white  beets,  which  an  endless 
chain  of  labourers,  treading  on  one  another's  heels  and 
walking  with  measured  steps,  like  a  procession  of  human 
ants,  are  loading  in  basketfuls  into  the  hold  of  a  vessel 
made  fast  to  the  wharf. 

Further  away  may  be  seen  carts  with  gigantic  horses 
harnessed  to  them,  a  train  of  cars  side-tracked  on  a  switch, 
busy,  bustling  crews  of  workmen,  white  wreaths  of  steam 
rising  in  the  air,  —  all  the  turmoil  and  activity  of  a  sugar 
refinery  in  full  blast. 

It  is  Sunday  to-day,  and  the  clocks  have  just  struck 
eleven.  But  work  goes  on  without  cessation,  day  and 
night,  at  the  works  at  this  season  of  the  year.  The  time 
lost  during  the  hot  months  has  to  be  made  up,  when 
operations  are  suspended  because  the  syrup  sours. 

A  cheerful  little  fire  is  blazing  on  the  hearth  of  the 
salon.  We  are  in  October,  and  although  the  approaches  of 
winter  are  as  yet  scarcely  perceptible,  mamma's  delicate 
health  requires  this  precaution. 

Seated  at  the  corner  of  the  fireplace  and  with  her  back 
to  the  light,  she  is  reading  aloud  Jules  Verne's  last 
romance  for  the  entertainment  of  the  family,  while  in  the 
opposite  corner  grandpa,  snugly  wrapped  in  his  warm 
dressing-gown,  while  pretending  to  give  all  his  attention 
to  the  reading,  keeps  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  clock  and  is 
evidently  deeply  interested  in  the  movement  of  the  creep- 
ing hands. 

It  is  plain  that  he  is  impatiently  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
some  one  who  should  be  there  already,  for  now  you 


BILLANCOURT.  I  I 

may  see  him  laboriously  extract  his  great  thick  repeater 
from  his  fob  and  compare  its  indications  with  the 
clock's. 

"  Excuse  me  for  interrupting  you,"  he  says  at  last  to 
mamma,  "  but  don't  you  think  Albert  should  be  here  by 
this  time." 

"  Why,  it  is  five  minutes  past  eleven !  "  mamma  replies. 
"  I  hope  they  have  n't  kept  him  in,  by  way  of  celebrating 
his  admission  to  the  Lycee  Montaigne  !  " 

The  aspiration  has  scarce  more  than  left  mamma's  lips 
than  the  door-bell  rings  and  answers  her.  Three  seconds 
later  a  great,  lanky,  long-legged  collegian  bursts  into  the 
room. 

"  Good  morning,  mamma  !  —  Good  morning,  grandpa  ! 
I  am  a  little  late,  —  we  stopped  on  the  way,  you  see,  papa 
and  I.  You  shall  know  all  about  it  presently  —  Where  is 
Aunt  Aubert  ? " 

There  is  a  sound  of  kisses,  a  general  movement,  the 
book  is  relegated  to  the  table.  Here  comes  papa  with  a 
smile  on  his  face  and  mamma  is  relieved  of  her  anxiety. 

That  great  boy  to  whom  so  warm  a  welcome  is  extended 
is  none  other  than  I,  Albert  Besnard  (your  prospective  par- 
ent), seventeen  years  old  at  the  present  writing,  very  proud 
of  a  budding  mustache  and  some  indications  of  side 
whiskers,  supplemented  by  a  pair  of  shoulders  that  a  coal 
heaver  need  not  be  ashamed  of,  and  not  a  little  embarrassed 
by  two  big  red  hands,  protruding  from  the  tight  sleeves  of 
his  tunic. 

With  my  proud  privilege  of  writing  "  Bachelor  of  Let- 
ters "  after  my  name  —  for  it  is  three  months  since  the 
university  honoured  me  with  that  distinction  —  the  reader 
will  readily  conceive  that  I  regard  myself  as  a  person  of  no 
mean  importance  in  this  sublunary  world. 


12  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

A  pocket  mirror  that  I  consult  quite  frequently,  to  ver- 
ify the  condition  of  my  facial  crinose  system,  might  pos- 
sibly tell  me  that  that  famous  down,  of  which  I  am  so 
proud,  gives  me  a  vague  resemblance  to  a  newly-hatched 
chicken.  But  never  mind, —  it  suffices  for  me,  to  appre- 
ciate it  at  its  real  value,  to  see  the  ill-concealed  envy  that 
it  inspires  in  most  of  my  comrades. 

About  this  time,  our  family  had  packed  its  goods  and 
chattels,  and  removed  from  the  department  of  the  Leze 
to  the  environs  of  Paris.  A  distant  cousin,  of  whom  we 
knew  next  to  nothing,  had  died  and  left  to  my  mother 
a  great  sugar  refinery  at  Billancourt.  Up  to  that  time, 
my  father's  occupation  on  his  estate  of  Saint  -  Lager, 
near  Chatillon,  where  I  pursued  my  studies,  had  been 
purely  agricultural.  His  first  idea,  therefore,  had  been 
to  sell  this  unexpected  and  somewhat  troublesome  inheri- 
tance. 

But  he  could  not  have  disposed  of  the  property  at 
forced  sale,  without  incurring  a  very  considerable  loss  on 
its  real  value.  Time  was  pressing,  for  autumn  was  ap- 
proaching, and  the  work  of  sugar  grinding  is  only  carried 
on  from  October  to  April.  On  the  other  hand,  my 
father  reflected  that  his  administrative  abilities,  —  he  had 
shown  what  they  were  for  fifteen  years,  as  Mayor  of  his 
commune,  and  member  of  the  General  Council,  —  espe- 
cially when  supplemented  by  the  experience  he  had  gained 
as  director  of  a  great  agricultural  enterprise,  would  make 
it  quite  possible  for  him  to  assume  control  of  the  works  in 
his  own  person. 

The  concern  was  in  an  admirable  condition  of  organiza- 
tion ;  there  was  a  certain  and  steady  sale  for  the  product. 
Contracts  had  been  signed  with  the  farmers  for  their 
beets  for  several  years  ahead  ;  the  processes  were  per- 


BILLANCOURT.  13 


fectly  simple.  There  was  an  assured  fortune  in  sight  at 
the  end  of  a  few  years.  "All  there  was  to  do,  was  to 
stoop  and  pick  it  up,"  said  grandpa. 

It  was  he  who  had  first  given  his  opinion  in  so  many 
words  that  we  should  leave  our  province,  and  come  and 
settle  at  Billancourt.  It  was  certainly  harder  on  him 
than  on  any  other  member  of  the  family  to  renounce  his 
habits  of  a  lifetime,  his  house,  his  beloved  garden. 

11  But  it  is  a  sacrifice  that  we  owe  to  Albert's  future," 
he  declared. 

And  all  objections  paled  their  fires  before  this  unan- 
swerable argument. 

The  time  was  also  at  hand,  when,  my  studies  being  fin- 
ished at  the  Lycee  of  Chatillon-sur-Leze,  it  would  be  nec- 
essary to  send  me  to  Paris  to  complete  them,  and  prepare 
for  the  examinations  for  admission  to  a  State  school.  It 
was  naturally  a  subject  of  grief  and  anxiety  to  my  parents 
to  see  this  moment  drawing  near.  And  here  was  an  op- 
portunity of  escaping  that  separation,  of  being  all  together 
in  our  own  house  at  Paris  ! 

Mamma  and  grandpa  adopted  the  plan  with  such  enthu- 
siasm, that  it  was  soon  a  settled  question.  Our  good 
Aunt  Aubert,  who  had  long  been  one  of  the  family,  and 
always  did  her  best  to  spoil  me,  asserted  that  she  would 
follow  us  to  Greenland,  if  necessary. 

There  was  no  intention  of  going  so  far  as  that.  One 
small  circumstance,  however,  came  near  nipping  our  proj- 
ect in  the  bud. 

My  father  had  seen  the  injudiciousness  of  embarking 
in  the  new  enterprise,  without  adequate  capital.  This 
capital,  unfortunately,  our  cousin  had  not  left  behind  him 
when  he  departed  from  this  wicked  world.  He  was  an 
old  bachelor,  and,  following  the  reprehensible  custom  of 


14  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

his  species,  had  made  it  his  practice  to  spend  all  his 
income  —  and  sometimes  a  little  more. 

It  was  necessary,  consequently,  to  arrange  for  a  loan  ; 
to  mortgage  not  only  the  refinery,  but  our  property  at 
Saint-Lager.  ^ 

The  idea  made  everybody  tremble. 

The  temptation  was  great,  however,  and  it  was  decided 
to  take  the  risky  step.  The  project  had  taken  such  a 
firm  hold  on  every  one,  that  it  was  not  to  be  abandoned. 

My  father  resigned  his  office  as  Mayor,  and  let  out  his 
farms  on  long  leases  ;  the  old  mansion,  in  which  we  ex- 
pected henceforth  to  pass  only  a  month  or  two  each  year, 
was  left  to  the  care  of  trusty  hands,  and  the  caravan  set 
out  for  Paris. 

We  had  scarcely  been  installed  there  a  week,  when, 
with  an  eye  to  improving  myself  in  rhetoric,  I  entered  the 
Lycee  Montaigne,  in  the  capacity  of  a  boarder,  and  this 
Sunday  marked  my  first  day's  absence  from  the  abode  of 
learning. 

Aunt  Aubert  had  no  more  than  heard  the  bell,  than  she 
came  running  in,  all  smiles. 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  here  you  are  at  last !  I  am  making  one 
of  those  vanilla  custards  for  you,  that  you  are  so  fond  of." 

And  she  fell  to  hugging  me  as  if  she  never  would 
leave  off. 

"And  I,  auntie,  beg  you  to  accept  this  little  bunch  of 
roses ;  for  to-morrow  is  your  birthday  —  did  you  know 
it  ? " 

"  Why,  that  is  true  !  —  He  remembered  it !  How  nice 
of  you,  dear  boy  !  " 

And  the  good  creature's  eyes  are  full  of  tears.  She 
gives  me  another  series  of  hugs,  which  I  return  with 
interest. 


WHAT    IS    THAT  ?  '    SAID    AUNT    AUBERT.' 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


DIVERSITY 
BILLANCO  URT.  17 

Now  we  all  descend  to  the  rez-de-chaussee  and  gather  in 
our  dining-room,  where  furniture  and  decorations  are  of 
brand-new  "  old  oak."  Papa,  who  is  waiting  for  us,  with 
his  legs  under  the  table,  laughs  in  his  beard,  and  looks 
at  mamma  and  Aunt  Aubert.  As  they  unfold  their  nap- 
kins, both  of  them,  almost  simultaneously,  give  utterance 
to  a  little  scream. 

"A  jewel  case?"  says  mamma. 

"  What  can  it  be  ?  "  hazards  Aunt  Aubert. 

"  It "  appears  to  be  two  little  boxes  of  red  morocco, 
which,  on  being  opened,  disclose  to  view  two  pairs  of  dia- 
mond earrings  nestling  in  their  bed  of  blue  velvet. 

"Albert  and  I  were  delayed  a  little  at  the  jeweller's," 
says  my  father.  "We  knew  that  to-morrow  is  Aunt 
Aubert's  fete,  and  we  thought  these  little  pebbles  might 
afford  you  pleasure." 

Aunt  Aubert  is  so  touched  by  the  delicate  attention  that 
she  cannot  speak  a  word,  but  two  moist  eyes  rivalling  the 
pretty  stones  in  brilliancy  speak  for  her  with  sufficient 
plainness. 

"  But  to-morrow  is  not  my  fete"  says  mamma  ;  "  I  am 
entitled  to  no  present.  These  gems  are  really  too 
beautiful." 

"  Bah !  call  it  a  payment  on  account  against  New 
Year's." 

"  Cousin,"  Aunt  Aubert  at  last  spoke  up,  with  an  air  that 
she  unsuccessfully  endeavoured  to  make  didactic,  "  I  fear 
you  have  been  guilty  of  an  extravagance.  Just  see  the  fire 
these  stones  emit !  "  she  added,  showing  them  to  grandpa. 

"  That  is  no  more  than  it  is  their  business  to  do,  as  dia- 
monds," the  latter  rejoined,  smiling  at  her  enthusiasm. 

"  Bah  !  "  said  my  father,  "  I  would  have  you  know  that 
we  are  on  the  road  to  become  millionaires.  My  first  boil- 


I  8  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

ing  of  sugar  was  the  finest  that  ever  left  the  works  ;  the 
chemist  told  me  so  yesterday,  and  the  books  bear  him 
out." 

The  conversation  presently  turned  on  my  experiences 
at  the  Lycee  Montaigne. 

"Well,"  asked  grandpa,  "what  is  your  impression? 
How  do  you  like  your  new  surroundings  ?  " 

"  Things  are  very  much  the  same  as  at  Chatillon.  There 
are  a  great  many  more  of  us,  —  nine  hundred  boarders,  I 
am  told,  and  the  principal,  M.  Montus,  is  a  far  more  im- 
portant personage.  He  is  a  commander  in  the  Legion  of 
Honour,  if  you  please,  and  access  to  him  is  not  always 
obtainable  by  ordinary  mortals.  With  that  exception, 
though,  there  is  very  little  difference." 

"  The  studies  are  not  more  difficult  ?  " 

"About  that  it  is  hard  to  say  as  yet,"  I  replied, 
evasively. 

The  fact  is  that  on  the  preceding  day  I  had  been  rated 
seventeen  in  Latin  Composition,  a  circumstance  that 
was  not  at  all  flattering  to  the  vanity  of  a  provincial 
prize  winner,  and  I  did  not  care  either  to  consider  this 
first  trial  as  decisive  or  to  say  much  of  the  result.  I 
was  not  displeased,  therefore,  when  another  subject  was 
broached. 

"  I  saw  M.  Desbans,  your  professor  of  mathematics, 
yesterday,"  my  father  remarked. 

"  The  boys  call  him  Tronc-de- Cone,"  I  replied,  with  a 
smile  that  I  was  unable  to  suppress. 

" Tronc-de-C6ne,  eh?  Well,  that  is  not  a  surname  that 
a  professor  of  mathematics  should  take  offense  at,"  my 
father  gravely  rejoined,  "although  it  does  not  come  with 
a  very  good  grace  from  a  lot  of  silly  youngsters  like  you. 
M.  Desbans  is  a  very  eminent  man  ;  he  carried  off  dis- 


BILLANCO  URT.  19 

tinguished  honours  in  his  time,  both  at  the  I?cole  Polytech- 
nique  and  at  the  Ecole  Normale,  scientific  section,  and  it 
won't  be  long  before  he  will  be  elected  to  the  Institute,  a 
distinction  that  he  has  earned  by  his  profound  researches. 
That  is  what  I  was  told  by  M.  Raynaud,  our  engineer,  who 
was  his  schoolmate.  It  was  at  his  recommendation  that  I 
went  to  see  M.  Desbans  to  ask  him  to  give  you  private 
lessons,  and  I  am  pleased  to  inform  you  that  he  will." 

"  But,  my  dear  father,"  I  strenuously  objected,  "  I  shall 
have  no  time  to  give  to  mathematics  without  neglecting 
my  other  studies.  I  already  have  as  much  as  I  can  do  to 
keep  up  with  my  class." 

"  Good !  I  assured  myself,  after  consulting  competent 
authorities,  that  that  is  a  fear  for  which  there  is  no  founda- 
tion. An  hour  or  two  daily  devoted  to  mathematics  will 
not  interfere  with  your  other  studies,  and  at  the  end  of 
the  year  will  entitle  you  to  your  degree  as  bachelor  of 
science.  That  will  give  you  more  liberty  of  choice  when 
you  come  to  select  a  career.  Don't  you  think  that  is 
an  advantage?  " 

"  I  don't  say  that  it  is  not,  but  in  selecting  rhetoric  for 
my  principal  study  the  object  was  to  get  all  the  benefit 
possible  from  it.  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  better  —  " 

"  No,  I  do  not.  On  the  contrary,  I  am  convinced  that 
the  study  of  mathematics,  even  if  regarded  only  in  the 
light  of  simple  intellectual  gymnastics,  cannot  fail  to 
strengthen  your  understanding,  giving  increased  precision 
to  your  style  and  stability  to  your  taste.  Even  from  an 
exclusively  literary  point  of  view,  I  am  certain  that  it  will 
be  assuring  you  an  advantage  over  your  comrades." 

"  Are  you  not  afraid,  cousin,"  Aunt  Aubert  here  inter- 
vened, "  that  such  close  application  may  prove  too  much 
for  the  poor  fellow's  strength  ?  " 


20  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

She  had  been  exhibiting  signs  of  impatience  for  some 
minutes. 

"  True,"  said  my  father,  with  a  laugh,  "  Albert  does  look 
like  a  young  man  incapable  of  supporting  much  fatigue. 
Look  at  those  shoulders  once,  Aunt  Aubert ;  don't  you 
think  they  reflect  credit  on  the  university  ?  Besides, 
there  is  nothing  like  change  of  occupation  to  avoid  fatigue. 
Albert  will  exercise  an  additional  half  -  hour  in  the  gym- 
nasium, if  necessary,  and  you  will  see  that  he  will  be  stouter 
and  healthier  than  ever." 

And  as  I  maintained  a  diplomatic  silence,  — 

"Come,"  my  father  continued,  "I  see  that  I  must  own 
up  to  everything." 

I  looked  at  him  rather  doubtfully. 

"  I  saw  some  one  besides  M.  Desbans.  I  also  saw  M. 
Goudouneix,  the  master-at-arms  of  the  school,  a  charming 
man,  who  very  kindly  promised  to  teach  his  art  to  a  strap- 
ping young  fellow  of  my  acquaintance." 

My  eyes  began  to  dance  in  my  head.  It  had  long  been 
my  wish  to  take  fencing  lessons,  and  now  the  desire  of  my 
heart  was  gratified  by  my  dear  father.  I  impulsively  left 
my  seat  and  went  over  and  embraced  him. 

"  More  devices  for  breaking  all  the  bones  in  his  body !  " 
murmured  Aunt  Aubert. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  affords  means  of  protect- 
ing life  and  honour,"  said  grandpa,  who  had  himself  en- 
joyed some  reputation  as  a  swordsman  about  1826. 

"Don't  talk  like  that;  you  make  one's  flesh  creep," 
cried  Aunt  Aubert. 

My  father  thought  a  diversion  would  be  in  order. 

"Mr.  Goudouneix  told  me  that  young  Lecachey,  my 
banker's  son,  will  share  your  lessons.  Do  you  know 
him  ? " 


BILLANCOURT.  21 

"  I  think  I  have  heard  the  name,  but  I  never  took  notice 
of  the  bearer  of  it.  He  is  probably  a  day  scholar." 

After  breakfast  my  father  went  off  about  his  business 
and  I  ascended  to  the  drawing-room  with  mamma  and 
Aunt  Aubert.  While  chatting  with  them  I  looked  through 
a  number  of  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes  that  was  lying  on 
the  table. 

"Hello!"  I  suddenly  exclaimed,  "here  is  an  article  by 
M.  Pellerin  on  Aristophanes  and  Greek  comedy." 

"  But  you  don't  know  that  the  writer  is  your  old  tutor, 
do  you  ?  "  asked  my  mother. 

"Oh,  I  haven't  the  least  doubt  —  E.  Pellerin — his 
name  is  Edouard.  Besides,  he  spent  two  years  in  Greece 
as  a  student  at  the  School  of  Athens  after  passing  his  bril- 
liant examination  for  a  fellowship,  and  Aristophanes  was 
always  a  favourite  subject  with  him." 

"  His  article  is  very  interesting ;  learned,  without  being 
heavy." 

"  You  need  not  fear  for  M.  Pellerin  ;  he  will  get  on. 
To  think  that  only  six  years  ago  he  was  my  tutor  !  —  it 
does  n't  seem  possible,  does  it  ?  But  then  he  has  worked 
so  hard  ;  all  who  know  him  have  the  highest  regard  and 
admiration  for  him." 

"  You  used  to  love  him,  if  I  remember  right  ? "  said 
Aunt  Aubert. 

"  Love  him  ?  I  should  say  I  did  !  who  could  help  loving 
a  man  so  kind,  so  patient,  so  learned,  and  yet  so  modest  ? 
Of  all  our  masters  at  Chatillon  there  is  none  of  whom 
Baudouin  and  I  retain  such  pleasant  recollections." 

"  Did  not  he  and  your  friend  Baudouin  correspond  ?  " 
my  mother  asked. 

"  Yes,  for  a  year  or  two.  I  think  he  was  fonder  of 
Baudouin  than  he  was  of  me.  M.  Pellerin  always  said  he 

/^CSf^K 

UNIVERSITY; 


22  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

had  the  soul  of  an  artist,  and  he  wrote  him  five  or  six 
times  after  leaving  the  lyce*e.  But  he  was  engrossed  in 
his  pursuits ;  he  departed  for  the  East  shortly  after- 
ward, and  we  have  heard  nothing  of  him  for  this  long 
time." 


CHAPTER  II. 

TO   MONSIEUR   JACQUES    BAUDOUIN,  AT    BOURGAS,  NEAR 
CHATILLON-SUR-LEZE. 

"  "X/HES,  my  dear  Baudouin,  here  I  am  at  Paris,  an  inmate 
A  of  the  Lycee  Montaigne,  and  very  sorry,  I  assure  you, 
that  you  and  I  are  no  longer  classmates,  as  we  were  to  our 
mutual  pleasure  and  advantage  during  so  many  long  years. 
The  Lycee  Montaigne,  as  you  are  perhaps  aware,  occupies 
buildings  recently  erected  in  the  quarter  of  the  Champs 
Elysees.  (  It  appears  that  for  a  long  time  the  residents  of 
Passy,  Neuilly,  and  western  Paris  generally  (not  forgetting 
Billancourt),  had  been  complaining  that  all  the  lycees 
were  crowded  together,  in  two  or  three  quarters,  and  finally 
the  Board  of  Education  determined  to  rectify  the  matter. 
The  proof  of  the  wisdom  of  their  action  is  that  the  Lycee 
Montaigne,  although  only  completed  a  short  time  since, 
has  already  more  than  nine  hundred  boarders  and  eleven 
hundred  day  scholars. 

"  That  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  ours  is  not  a  little  toy 
college  like  that  of  Chatillon,  and  that  your  old  friend,  a 
single  unit  in  a  total  almost  as  large  as  that  of  a  regiment 
of  infantry,  sometimes  feels  a  little  lost  in  the  midst  of 
such  an  aggregation  of  humanity. 

I*  Picture  to  yourself,  on  one  side  of  the  Rue  de  Chaillot, 
a  lofty,  brand-new,  staringly  white  fagade,  ornamented 
with  laurel  wreaths  carved  in  relief,  and  pierced  with  tall 


24  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE, 

windows  over  three  enormous  carriage  entrances.  One  of 
these  entrances  is  for  the  principal,  the  proctor,  and  the 
other  dignitaries  who  have  lodgings  in  the  edifice  ;  another, 
to  the  right,  is  reserved  for  the  steward's  department,  and 
the  administrative  service  ;  the  third,  to  the  left,  is  used  by 
the  professors  and  the  students. 

"  Enter  that  door  with  me.  We  find  ourselves  in  a 
spacious  vestibule,  shut  off  in  its  entire  breadth  by  a  high, 
wrought  iron  railing,  which,  notwithstanding  its  ornate 
workmanship,  is  none  the  less  a  railing.  Beyond  this  bar- 
rier extends  a  great  rectangular  courtyard,  surrounded  with 
a  colonnade ;  it  is  the  reviewing  ground.  To  right  and  left 
of  the  vestibule,  two  great  marble  staircases,  conducting, 
one  to  the  parlor  and  thence  to  the  office  and  reception- 
rooms  of  the  principal,  the  other  to  the  recitation-rooms. 
The  classes  are  domiciled  in  another  building,  situated  in 
the  rear  of  the  one  I  am  attempting  to  describe  to  you,  and 
accessible  to  the  day  scholars  by  special  doors  opening  on  a 
side  street. 

/"I  would  say  here  that  there  are  no  little  boys  at  the 
Lycee  Montaigne;  candidates  for  admission  enter  the 
intermediate  or  the  upper  forms.  Primary  scholars  are  all 
sent  to  a  small  college  instituted  expressly  for  them  out  in 
the  fields,  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Valerien,  and  not  far  from 
the  village  of  Nanterre.  But  to  come  back  to  the  vesti- 
bule : 

"  Here  to  the  left  is  the  lodge,  —  no  !  we  won't  say  that ; 
it  is  not  sufficiently  respectful,  —  say  the  office,  the  study, 
the  salon  of  M.  le  Concierge.  Ah,  my  dear  Baudouin,  if 
Father  Barbotte,  our  old  porter  at  Chatillon,  could  see  these 
quarters  once !  His  nose  would  come  down  on  his  mus- 
tache until  it  became  a  nose  of  nearly  normal  size.  Aubus- 
son  carpets,  mirrors,  a  great  mahogany  secretary,  fauteuils 


THE  OFFICE,  THE  STUDY,  THE  PARLOUR    OF    M.    LE 


TO  MONSIEUR  JACQUES  BAUDOUIN.  2/ 

in  green  velvet,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  this  splendour  a  tall, 
portly  gentleman,  solemn  as  a  notary,  and  whose  conde- 
scending politeness  gives  you  an  impression  of  your  utter 
nothingness.  Take  my  word  for  it,  he  would  never  stoop 
to  sell  tarts  and  apples  to  his  subjects  !  It  is  as  much  as 
ever  if  he  deigns  to  honour  them  with  a  patronizing  look 
as  they  pass  by.  You  will  think  I  am  romancing,  but  I 
assure  you  it  is  all  quite  true.  He  has  a  clerk. 

"  A  clerk  who  is  always  seated  at  a  mahogany  desk 
and  keeps  a  record  of  the  exits  and  entrances  for  His 
Excellency,  Monseigneur  le  Concierge. 

"  '  I  don't  see  anything  so  very  extraordinary  in  that,' 
he  said  one  day  to  somebody  who  had  innocently  expressed 
his  astonishment,  « the  keeper  of  the  Conciergerie  has  a 
clerk.' 

"  We  will  ascend  the  left-hand  staircase,  and  follow  this 
long  corridor,  which  brings  us  to  Division  No.  i.  It  is 
here  that  your  humble  servant  roosts,  in  company  with 
some  thirty  other  rhetoricians.  As  at  Chatillon,  we  are 
divided  into  freshmen  and  veterans,  according  as  we  have 
or  have  not  accomplished  a  first  year  in  rhetoric.  You 
will  probably  be  surprised  to  learn  that,  although  I  am  a 
bachelor  and  ex-rhetorician  of  the  Lycee  of  Chatillon,  I  am 
classed  among  the  freshmen.  That  is  because  I  am  not 
eighteen  yet,  which  allows  me  to  compete  at  the  general 
examination  as  a  freshman,  and  it  is  customary  to  take 
advantage  of  that  privilege. 

"  And  it  is  well,  too,  that  this  state  of  affairs  exists,  for 
without  it  I  fear  my  chances  would  be  mighty  slim  at  that 
same  examination. 

"  My  poor  Baudouin  !  what  number  do  you  suppose  was 
awarded  me  in  Latin  Composition,  no  longer  ago  than  day 
before  yesterday  ?  Seventeen  !  '  What  a  fall  was  there, 


28  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

my  countrymen  ! '  Flattering  for  Chatillon-sur-Leze,  is  n't 
it  ?  I,  who  was  considered  a  prodigy  on  the  Verumenim- 
vero  and  the  Quandoquidem  !  I,  who  ever  since  the  day 
when  Parmentier,  on  his  admission  to  the  Naval  Academy, 
belied  all  prognostics  as  to  his  literary  future,  was  regarded 
as  the  favourite  of  our  departmental  muses.  Seventeenth 
at  Paris !  where  there  are  ten  other  lycee,  —  that  is  to  say 
one  hundred  and  seventieth  on  a  general  list ;  there  you 
have  the  melancholy  truth. 

"  It  is  true  that  I  stand  eighth  among  the  freshmen,  but 
the  subserviency,  the  artful  combinations,  the  calculations 
of  age  that  were  required  to  attain  that  magnificent  re- 
sult !  I  am  obliged  to  confess  to  you,  dear  friend,  that  I 
am  a  little  discouraged.  You  see  I  was  very  well  pleased 
with  my  lucubration,  —  an  address  of  welcome  by  the  Sen- 
ator Tertius  Quirinus  Mala  to  Scipio  Africanus.  When 
the  class  was  dismissed  I  think  I  would  not  have  traded 
my  chances,  so  certain  was  I  of  bearing  off  first  honours, 
for  an  absolute  assurance  of  being  second.  And  then  the 
complimentary  remarks  with  which  M.  Auger  seasoned  his 
verdict ! 

"  <  M.  Besnard.  Latin  Composition,  correct  enough  in 
a  grammatical  point  of  view,'  he  said,  '  but  dull  and  prosy 
in  style,  abounding  in  Gallicisms,  and  perfectly  common- 
place.' 

"  That  was  the  slap  in  the  face  I  received.  Pleasant, 
was  n't  it  ?  to  hear  oneself  handled  in  that  manner 
before  seventy -five  young  cubs,  all  predisposed  to  look 
on  a  fellow  as  a  numskull  if  he  happens  to  hail  from 
Grenoble  or  Chatillon !  But  I  will  have  my  revenge,  see 
if  I  don't ! 

"  One  consolation  was  that  I  was  not  the  only  one  to 
flunk,  as  they  call  it  here.  Almost  every  one  of  my  com- 


UJNlv 


TO   MONSIEUR  JACQUES  BAUDOUIN.  29 

rades  got  his  lick  with  the  wrong  side  of  the  tongue.  A 
terrible  man  is  he,  that  M.  Auger  !  Tall,  thin,  pale,  with 
a  gray  bristling  mustache  like  a  half-pay  cavalry  colonel's, 
hair  cut  en  brosse,  extremely  black  eyebrows,  and  a  red 
rosette  in  his  buttonhole.  He  does  not  condescend  to 
put  on  his  academic  gown,  but  simply  throws  it  across  the 
arm  of  his  chair,  for  appearance's  sake.  A  word  from  him 
in  his  big  deep  voice  cuts  you  in  two.  You  should  see 
how  silent  and  attentive  everybody  is  in  his  class,  and 
how  all  move  as  if  at  the  tap  of  the  drum.  And  yet  he 
has  never  in  his  life  inflicted  punishment.  All  is  that  if  a 
student  undertakes  to  play  pranks  in  his  room,  he  merely 
sends  him  before  the  proctor  with  an  intimation  that  his 
presence  has  ceased  to  be  desirable.  Such,  at  least,  is  the 
tradition. 

"  One  thing  certain  is  that  he  can't  be  beat  in  expound- 
ing Tacitus.  You  have  no  idea,  my  dear  Baudouin,  of  all 
he  discovers  in  a  phrase,  a  line,  a  word.  We  used  to  think 
that  M.  Schilstz  had  some  acquaintance  with  Tacitus, 
did  n't  we  ?  Well,  his  commentaries  amount  to  just  nothing 
at  all  beside  M.  Auger's.  The  man  must  have  all  the  liv- 
ing languages  at  his  finger  ends,  to  say  nothing  of  Greek, 
Hebrew,  Sanskrit,  the  origin  of  language,  and  all  the  rest 
of  it.  Sometimes  he  will  hold  forth  for  a  whole  hour  on 
a  syllable,  a  root,  and  tell  you  such  lots  of  curious  and  in- 
teresting things,  opening  up  entirely  new  horizons.  It  is 
frightful,  don't  you  know,  to  think  of  all  one  has  to  learn 
when  one  has  finished  with  college.  I  am  beginning  to 
see  that  the  first  six  or  seven  years  are  merely  an  intro- 
duction to  broader  studies.  Until  now  we  have  been 
neither  more  nor  less  than  children  learning  to  read  and 
write  ;  we  have  been  preparing  ourselves  by  preliminary 
exercises  for  what  is,  in  fact,  our  real  work. 


30  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  I  cannot  truthfully  say  that  I  am  greatly  pleased  with 
M.  Auger.  In  spite  of  his  bearish  manner,  it  would  be 
impossible  to  find  a  better  teacher.  But  if  you  look  for 
sympathy  and  tenderness  there,  you  will  not  find  it.  His 
most  gracious  compliment  for  the  first  in  Latin  Composi- 
tion, a  veteran  named  Dutheil,  was  : 

"  '  M.  Dutheil.    Theme  pretty  well  worked  up.' 

"  The  old  stagers  say  that  that  is  as  far  as  he  ever 
allows  himself  to  go  in  commending  an  exercise. 

"  But  here  we  ate  at  Division  No.  2,  to  which  I  started 
to  introduce  you.  MfThere  are  some  forty  of  us  students  in 
there,  seated  at  tw>  rows  of  desks,  the  benches  of  which 
have  backs.  I  will  say  incidentally  that  those  benches  are 
an  improvement  that  might  be  adopted  with  advantage  in 
other  colleges.  Facing  us,  between  the  two  windows,  is  a 
great  blackboard  ;  to  the  right  is  the  customary  bookcase, 
to  the  left  the  chair  of  the  usher. 

"  That  individual  is  a  man  of  an  entirely  different 
stripe  from  M.  Pellerin.  His  name  is  Valadier,  I  am 
told.  He  is  a  little,  stocky,  bald,  brown-faced  man,  with 
eyes  that  glow  like  living  coals  in  their  cavernous  orbits; 
prominent  cheek-bones,  a  yellow  complexion,  and  a  tem- 
perament to  correspond,  namely,  of  the  most  taciturn. 
During  the  eight  days  that  I  have  sat  under  his  ferule,  I 
have  not  heard  him  speak  twenty  words.  For  the  vari- 
ous exercises  of  the  day,  such  as  recitations,  recreation, 
dismissal,  and  so  forth,  he  has  invented  a  code  of  signals, 
transmitted  by  a  certain  number  of  taps  with  his  pen- 
holder, on  the  arm  of  his  chair,  which  relieve  him  of  the 
necessity  of  opening  his  lips.  1  That  may  appear  strange 
at  first,  but  one  quickly  comes  TO  understand  this  language 
as  readily  as  the  telegraph-operator  reads  off  the  message 
that  is  passing  over  the  wires  by  the  clicking  of  his  instru- 


TO  MONSIE  UR  JA  CQ  UES  BA  UD  O  UIN.  3  I 

ment.  M.  Valadier  has,  in  particular,  a  way  of  command- 
ing silence!  That  never  fails  of  its  effect, — just  three 
little  sharp  taps  of  the  penholder. 

"  It  would  not  surprise  me  if  this  system  were  the  re- 
sult of  a  profound  Machiaiiellipm.  He  has  made  the  dis- 
covery that  big  boys  like  us  prefer  to  be  called  to  order 
mechanically,  so  to  speak,  rather  than  be  accosted  by  name. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  the  result  is  a  success.  There  is  a  sort 
of  tacit  agreement  between  the  master  and  us,  to  leave 
one  another  in  peace.  l|Y^ou  will  understand  why  silence 
is  a  necessity  to  M.  Valadier,  when  I  tell  you  that  he  is 
a  poet,  and  spends  his  time  in  fabricating  bouts-rimes. 

"  I  have  this  information  from  one  of  my  new  comrades, 
a  young  man  named  Chavasse,  who  professes  the  most  se- 
rene disdain  for  these  poetic  recreations.  He  is  a  fat,  red- 
faced,  apple-cheeked  boy,  with  china-blue  eyes,  that  only 
light  up  in  the  refectory,  and  an  inferior  maxillary  of 
prodigious  development.  Pp  you  remember  in  the  trea- 
tise on  natural  history  that  we  studied  a  year  ago,  the  pic- 
ture representing  the  jaw  of  a  carnivorous  as  compared 
with  that  of  a  herbivorous  animal  ?  Well,  I  never  look  at 
Chavasse  but  I  think  of  that  memorable  example,  and  tell 
myselLthat,  beside  him,  I  must  have  the  air  of  a  vegeta- 
rian, v^ou  will  scarce  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  th'e 
wretched  boy,  only  eighteen,  already  has  a  paunch. 

" « Chavasse  is  building  out  in  front,"  says,  with  a  grave 
face,  Thomereau,  the  funny  man  of  the  class. 

"  There  is  another,  with  whom  you  would  not  be  likely 
to  fall  in  love,  — Thomereau.  Imagine,  my  dear  Baudouin, 
a  sort  of  bandylegged  turnspit,  with  a  big  head,  a  mouth 
cleft  from  ear  to  ear,  a  trumpet  of  a  nose,  and  hair  always 
in  disorder,  whose  self-appointed  mission  here  on  earth  is 
to  make  his  neighbours  laugh.  He  considers  all  means 


32  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

fair  to  attain  that  glorious  end ;  quips,  cranks,  and  quid- 
dities of  every  kind,  plays  on  words,  and  puns  —  particu- 
larly puns.  He  gets  them  off  at  every  moment,  and  on 
the  slightest  provocation,  —  sometimes  good,  but  much 
oftener  bad,  according  to  the  decision  of  the  Fates. 

"  The  happiest  effort  of  his  life,  as  he  himself  confesses 
to  me,  was  one  that  he  achieved  day  before  yesterday,  in 
M.  Auger's  room.  Thomereau,  as  usual,  was  gaping  at 
the  ceiling,  while  the  professor  was  explaining  an  ode  of 
Horace. 

"'  Monsieur  Thomereau,'  said  the  professor,  'you  are 
not  following  the  text,  and  I  see  that  you  are  thinking  of 
something  entirely  different.' 

"  '  Beg  pardon,  m'sieu,'  replied  my  joker,  with  a  voice 
like  the  quack  of  a  duck,  *je  pense,  done  je  suts  ! —  if  Des- 
cartes is  to  be  believed,  t 

"  And  everybody  laughed,  even  M.  Auger. 

"As  a  rule,  however,  he  is  content  to  harass  us  with 
frightful  ready-made  puns,  of  which  he  always  keeps  a 
stock  on  hand  to  meet  emergencies. 

**Dutheil,  whom  I  mentioned  as  the  leader  of  the  class, 
is  a  boy  of  quite  a  different  kind,  a  sober,  serious,  level- 
headed fellow,  whom  one  feels  can  always  be  depended 
on,  —  somewhat  after  your  style. 

"  You  are  doubtless  aware  that  our  friend  Verschuren, 
of  Chatillon,  is  here  at  the  Lycee  Montaigne  with  me. 
He  is  even  in  my  division,  although  he  is  preparing  for 
Saint-Cyr,  and  belongs  to  the  category  here  designated 
as  Cornichons.  The  Saint  -  Cyrians'  quarters  are  over- 
crowded, it  appears  ;  six  of  them  have  been  lodged  with  us. 

*  The  pun  hinges  on  the  words  je  J«M,  which  mean  indifferently,  /  am 
or  /  follow.  "  I  think,  therefore  I  am,"  Descartes  axiom  ;  "  I  think, 
therefore  I  follow,"  Chavasse's  emendation. 


TO   MONSIEUR  JACQUES  BAUDOUIN.  33 

We  have  also  four  Taupius,  or  candidates  for  the  Polytech- 
nique,  which  contributes  to  shed  no  little  distinction  on 
Division  No.  I,  as  you  may  well  believe. 

"  What  shall  I  say  of  the  regulations  of  the  Lycee  ? 
The  regime  is  exactly  the  same  as  at  Chatillon.  Here,  as 
there,  our  movements  are  regulated  by  the  beat  of  the 
drum.  The  bill  of  fare  is  also  varied  from  day  to  day 
in  a  similar  manner.  The  hours  of  study  and  recreation 
are  the  same.  Still,  there  is  a  difference  that  is  worthy 
of  being  noted,  —  we  are  at  liberty  to  go  out  on  Sundays, 
and  on  Thursdays,  as  well  upon  a  written  request  of  the 
parents,  instead  of  having  leave  only  once  a  month  as  in 
the  province. 

"  Adieu.  Write  soon,  and  let  your  letter  be  a  good  long 
one.  I  am  dying  to  hear  from  you,  what  you  are  doing, 
what  you  are  going  to  do.  ALBERT  BESNARD. 

\ 
"  P.  S.  —  I  had  almost  forgotten  to  tell  you  there  is  a 

splendid  article  by  M.  Pellerin  in  the  current  number  of 
the  Revue  des  Deux  Monde s.  Papa  promises  he  will  send 
it  to  you." 


CHAPTER    III. 

MY    FRIEND  MOLECULE. A    MISPRIZED    POET. LECA- 

CHEY    SHOWS    HIS    COLOURS. TRONC-DE-CONE. 

ON  re-reading  Baudouin's  letter,  which  he  had  pre- 
served and  was  so  obliging  as  to  lend  me  when  I 
intimated  to  him  that  I  was  about  to  write  my  memoirs, 
I  perceive,  not  without  confusion,  that  there  is  not  a  word 
in  it  of  Molecule. 

That  one  of  my  comrades  who  answered  to  this  mel- 
lifluous surname,  but  whose  real  name  was  Chapuis,  was, 
nevertheless,  one  of  the  notabilities  of  the  class,  —  although 
his  distinction  certainly  was  not  due  to  the  number  of  his 
inches.  For  six  days  he  and  I  had  been  almost  insepa- 
rable. But,  doubtless,  I  had  feared  to  excite  Baudouin's 
jealousy,  who  was  always  a  little  sensitive  on  such  matters, 
and  that  accounts  for  my  silence  in  regard  to  my  new 
friend. 

On  the  very  first  day  of  my  appearance  at  the  lycee, 
Molecule  had  revealed  himself  to  me  in  the  most  elevated 
aspect  —  intellectually,  I  mean  —  that  it  is  given  the 
human  race  to  assume  :  that  of  the  poet,  namely.  And 
not  a  Latin  poet,  either,  as  one  might  suppose  and  as 
would  have  been  perfectly  natural  at  college,  but  an 
unmistakable,  full-fledged  poet  in  the  French  language. 

And  what  was  more,  it  was  in  my  honour  that  he  had 
straddled  Pegasus. 


MY  FRIEND   MOLECULE,  35 

It  happened  in  the  class-room.  I  was  absorbed  in  the 
fabrication  of  my  first  Latin  composition,  which  I  was 
desirous  should  not  be  below  the  level  of  my  Chatillonian 
reputation,  when  I  received,  through  the  medium  of  my 
neighbor,  Chavasse,  an  envelope  bearing  my  address, 
which  I  tore  open  with  trembling  fingers. 

The  envelope  contained  a  sheet  of  white  paper,  and 
exactly  in  the  middle  of  the  sheet,  in  small  and  beautiful 
chirography,  was  a  sonnet  dedicated  to  Albert  Besnard. 
What  would  I  give  to-day  had  I  preserved  that  poem, 
the  only  one  I  ever  inspired  in  my  life,  so  that  I  might  be 
able  to  submit  it  to  posterity  !  But,  alas  !  those  verses, 
like  so  many  others  that  have  gone  before  and  come  after, 
have  disappeared  from  mortal  ken.  All  I  can  state  posi- 
tively is  that  they  welcomed  me  to  the  Lycee  Montaigne 
with  a  warmth  and  enthusiasm  that  went  straight  to  my 
heart.  They  were  signed  Lfo  Chapuis. 

You  may  imagine  the  eagerness  with  which,  when  the 
noon  recess  came,  I  inquired  for  information  about 
Chapuis. 

"Chapuis?"  replied  the  first  boy  whom  I  accosted; 
"there  he  is,  that  little  whiffet  over  yonder  —  Chapuis, 
alias  Molecule  !  " 

He  was  so  small  and  insignificant  that  one  would  have 
taken  him  for  a  boy  eleven  years  old  rather  than  for  a 
student  of  rhetoric.  There  was  the  dawning  promise  of 
a  beard,  and  his  alert  black  eyes,  pointed  features,  and  hair 
plastered  closely  to  his  head  gave  him  something  of  the 
appearance  of  a  mouse. 

I  can  see  him  now,  smiling  at  me  in  a  friendly  way  and 
displaying  a  row  of  white  teeth  as  I  stepped  toward  him. 

"  Was  it  you  who  sent  me  those  verses  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  it  is  my  custom  to  extend  a  greeting  to  all  new- 


^-  >. 

f  OF  THE  '         \ 

(UNIVERSITY) 

V         „..    OF-  S 


36  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

comers,  by  way  of  keeping  my  hand  in.  How  were  you 
pleased  with  my  sonnet  ?  " 

"  Much  obliged,  on  behalf  of  all  newcomers  —  they  must 
be  immensely  gratified.  Your  verses  are  very  pretty." 

"  Really  ?  "  said  the  little  man,  his  face  radiant  with 
smiles.  "You  are  not  making  fun  of  me?" 

"  No ;  'pon  my  word,  I  assure  you  your  sonnet  is 
excellent." 

He  came  up  to  me,  immediately,  with  a  confidential  air. 

"  I  see  that  you  are  a  person  of  taste.  Do  you  write 
verses  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  have  never  attempted  it." 

"Ah  !  perhaps  you  are  writing  a  novel,  then  ? " 

"Nor  that,  either." 

"  I  have  it !     You  are  working  for  the  theatre." 

Molecule  spoke  with  entire  sincerity.  He  apparently 
could  not  conceive  for  a  moment  that  I  had  no  literary 
sins  upon  my  conscience.  I  did  not  undeceive  him,  owing 
to  my  ridiculous  false  shame. 

"A  comedy,  no  doubt?"  he  continued.  "No?  A 
tragedy,  then  ?  Come,  I  see  what  the  matter  is  —  you 
are  close -mouthed  ;  you  don't  want  to  disclose  your  sub- 
ject. You  need  have  no  fear  of  me,  though ;  when  you 
come  to  know  me  better  you  won't  hesitate  to  give  me 
your  confidence.  If  you  like,  I  will  write  the  couplets  for 
your  vaudeville.  Poetry  is  my  strong  point,  you  see." 

Alas  !  this  fact  was  soon  to  be  practically  demonstrated 
to  me.  From  this  time  forth  not  a  day  passed  that  I 
was  not  called  on  to  read  some  poetic  manifestation  of 
Chapuis's  inexhaustible  genius.  Epistles,  odes,  harmonies, 
symphonies,  elegies,  trilogies,  satires,  idyls,  epigrams, 
ballads,  triolets,  virelays,  all  flowed  with  equal  facility 
from  his  teeming  brain.  From  morning  till  night  he  was 


MY  FRIEND   MOLECULE.  37 

manufacturing  rhymes,  which,  willy  -  nilly,  one  must  read 
and  admire  with  him.  It  was  not  always  amusing,  al- 
though there  were  times  when  the  comic  element  was  not 
altogether  wanting. 

For  instance,  he  was  accustomed  to  inveigh  in  the  most 
violent  terms  against  the  vices  of  his  contemporaries,  and 
to  abandon  himself  metaphorically  to  the  gloomiest  mis- 
anthropy, although  under  ordinary  circumstances  he  was 
the  jolliest  and  pleasantest  of  companions. 

I  did  not  fail  to  banter  him  now  and  then  on  this  slight 
inconsistency,  but  on  the  whole  he  had  no  reason  to  find 
fault  with  my  criticisms,  and  such  was  the  progress  I 
made  in  his  esteem  that  at  the  end  of  two  or  three  days 
he  decided  to  open  his  heart  to  me. 

"  Listen,"  he  said  ;  "  I  have  a  great  secret  to  impart  to 
you.  I  have  no  need  to  caution  you  to  observe  the  most 
perfect  silence  ;  you  yourself  will  see  the  necessity  of  it." 

Of  course  this  exordium  aroused  my  curiosity  to  the 
highest  pitch. 

"  Know,  then,  the  mystery  of  my  life,"  Molecule  con- 
tinued, trying  to  give  a  tone  of  tragedy  to  his  little  piping 
voice  :  "  I  am  writing  an  epic  poem  !  " 

"  Really  and  truly?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear  fellow ;  or,  rather,  I  should  say  the  epic 
poem  —  the  epic  that  is  wanting  to  complete  the  glories 
of  France.  I  have  already  composed  five  cantos  out  of 
twenty-four.  You  shall  give  me  your  opinion  of  it." 

Molecule  spoke  with  such  conviction  that  I  never  even 
thought  of  laughing.  His  assurance  astounded  me.  He 
went  on : 

"By  the  way,  I  can  tell  you  what  its  subject  is,  but 
promise  me  first  not  to  divulge  it  to  any  one.  Have  I 
your  word  ? " 


38  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

I  nodded  affirmatively. 

"  It  is  no  joking  matter,  you  understand  —  twenty  thou- 
sand  lines  at   the  very  least.     But  it  is  going  on  swim- 
mingly.    I    have   confidence   in   you ;    my  subject    is  — 
Tobacco!     That  is  what  you  might  call  an  idea,  hey?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  don't  deny  that  it  is  an  idea,  but  for  an  epic 
poem  —  " 

"  It  is  splendid,  my  dear  fellow,  splendid  !  You  shall 
see  what  I  have  done.  And  speaking  of  tobacco,  may  I 
offer  you  a  pinch  ?  " 

The  wretched  youth  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket, 
and  drawing  forth  a  cheap  wooden  snuff-box,  extended  it, 
fraternally,  to  me. 

"  What !  are  you  a  snuff-taker  ? "  I  inquired  with  surprise. 

"  Of  course  I  am,  and  a  smoker,  too,  if  you  have  no 
objections." 

I  was  literally  horror-struck. 

"Ah!"  I  cried,  "if  that  is  the  case  I  am  not  sur- 
prised—" 

Just  then  the  sound  of  the  drum  luckily  cut  short  my 
remark,  for  my  reflection  was  not  of  a  nature  to  greatly 
please  poor  Molecule.  What  was  it  at  which  I  was  not 
surprised  ?  That  he  was  of  such  diminutive  proportions. 
For  it  is  an  acknowledged  fact  that  the  use  of  tobacco  in 
early  life  arrests  physical  development,  as  my  father  had 
repeatedly  warned  me. 

Such  was  my  new  comrade,  whom  I  had  refrained  from 
mentioning  in  my  letter  to  my  best  friend,  Jacques  Bau- 
douin. 

Neither  had  I  said  anything  to  him  of  Lecachey,  although 
I  had  already  made  his  acquaintance  previous  to  meeting 
him  at  the  fencing  school.  It  was  during  the  lecture  on 
history  that  he  was  revealed  to  me. 


MY    SUBJECT    IS TOBACCO  !  '  " 


MY  FRIEND   MOLECULE.  41 

M.  Aveline,  who  presided  in  this  department,  certainly 
could  not  be  accused  of  fetichism  toward  his  specialty. 

"  History,"  he  was  accustomed  to  say  to  us,  "  can  only 
be  considered  as  the  more  or  less  truthful  rendering  of  a 
text  of  which  the  real  significance  is  known  to  no  one. 
Therefore,  gentlemen,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  explain  the 
events  which  constitute  part  of  our  course  when  you  are 
liable  to  see  my  explanations  controverted  to-morrow  by 
superior  authority.  I  shall  confine  myself  to  giving  you 
a  certain  number  of  dates  and  historical  landmarks,  indi- 
cating to  you  the  principal  writers  who  have  treated  of 
these  occurrences.  You  will  study  them  closely,  and  on 
each  event  will  form  that  opinion  which,  after  mature 
reflection,  seems  to  you  most  judicious." 

That  said,  M.  Aveline  would  cast  a  sharp  look  at  us 
through  the  gold-bowed  spectacles  that  surmounted  his 
long,  thin  nose,  read  off  a  list  of  a  score  or  so  of  names 
and  dates,  and  wind  up  by  giving  us  the  titles  of  half  a 
dozen  authorities  in  which  we  were  sure  to  find  the  most 
contradictory  opinions. 

"  You  will  each  of  you  select  within  these  limits  the 
subject  that  you  desire  to  treat  in  writing  for  the  next 
lesson,"  he  added.  "  All  I  ask  of  you  is  to  let  me  have 
your  individual  judgment  in  your  own  language,  not  re- 
peating parrot-like  the  words  of  your  authors.  Now,  and 
for  this  day  only,  we  will  pass  on  to  other  exercises." 

This  manner  of  hearing  a  recitation  in  history  had 
already  excited  my  wonder  not  a  little.  What  completed 
my  bewilderment  was  to  see  M.  Aveline  take  a  volume 
from  his  chair,  open  it  at  a  place  indicated  by  a  folded 
paper  between  the  leaves,  and  say : 

"  I  will  read  you  a  few  pages  of  Saint-Real's  '  Conspiracy 
of  the  Spaniards  against  Venice.'  He  is  an  excellent  model 


42  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

of  the  narrative  style,  and  is  not  as  popular  as  he  should 
be  in  our  times." 

M.  Aveline  was  a  good  reader,  there  was  no  denying 
that.  But  what  a  strange  way  of  teaching  history ! 

"All  the  same,  for  the  last  four  years  one  of  his  pupils 
has  regularly  carried  off  the  prize  at  the  examination,"  said 
my  neighbour  on  the  left,  as  if  in  reply  to  my  thought. 

Naturally  enough  I  turned  and  looked  at  him.  He  was 
a  day  scholar,  a  handsome  little  gentleman,  elegantly 
dressed  in  a  suit  that  it  was  plain  came  from  the  shop  of  a 
fashionable  tailor  ;  he  carried  his  perfumed  handkerchief  in 
his  sleeve,  wore  a  monocle  cocked  in  his  eye,  and  his  air 
generally  was  one  of  well-bred  assurance  and  superiority. 
There  was  no  sign  of  text-book  or  note-book  before  him  on 
the  table ;  nothing  but  a  pair  of  spotless  uncreased  gloves, 
a  resplendent  silk  hat  with  a  white  satin  lining,  and  a  little 
whalebone  switch  topped  with  a  silver  handle. 

"  He  is  a  professor  after  my  own  heart,"  he  continued, 
in  an  undertone.  "  He  is  not  eternally  bothering  a  body 
with  tiresome  questions." 

I  was  interested  in  the  reading,  so  that  a  glance  was  the 
only  reply  I  vouchsafed  my  neighbour.  Not  in  the  least 
disconcerted,  however : 

"  Were  you  at  the  Fontainebleau  races  last  Sunday  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  No ;  I  have  not  been  long  in  Paris,"  I  replied,  apolo- 
getically. 

"  You  missed  the  best  meet  of  the  season  —  a  splendid 
field.  I  had  laid  my  money  on  Spavento  at  4^2  ;  he  was 
the  favourite,  you  know.  I  thought  I  had  a  sure  thing, 
but  alas  !  —  " 

Here  the  professor  ceased  reading. 

"  Monsieur  Lecachey,"  he  said,  looking  in  our  direction, 


FRIEND   MOLECULE,  43 

"  I  will  not  ask  you  not  to  talk  in  class,  it  would  doubtless 
be  requiring  too  much  of  you  ;  I  will  only  request  you  not 
to  talk  so  loud." 

Lecachey !  the  name  reminded  me  of  what  my  father 
had  said  to  me  concerning  his  banker's  son.  So  that  was 
the  scion  of  the  famous  firm  in  the  Faubourg  Saint-Honore, 
and  my  prospective  companion  in  the  fencing  school.  I 
looked  at  him  with  an  increase  of  interest  which  he  did 
not  fail  to  notice. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  he  asked,  with  a  look  of  un- 
easiness. "  I  haven't  inked  my  nose,  have  I  ?  " 

"  Not?  a  bit,"  I  replied,  with  a  laugh.  "What  made  me 
prick  up  my  ears  was  your  name ;  my  father  told  me  that 
he  has  business  relations  with  your  father,  and  that  you 
and  I  are  to  be  comrades  at  the  fencing  school." 

"  Ah  !  then  you  are  Besnard  ?     I  have  heard  — 

"  Monsieur  Lecachey,  I  see  you  are  determined  not  to 
modulate  that  voice  of  yours  !  "  here  spoke  up  M.  Aveline. 

This  time  we  held  our  tongues  and  the  reading  came  to 
an  end  without  further  incident. 

"  Well,  then,  we  shall  meet  again  this  evening,  I  sup- 
pose ?  "  Lecachey  said  to  me  when  the  drum  beat. 

He  shook  hands  with  me,  carefully  adjusted  his  glossy 
hat  on  his  head,  took  his  gloves  and  little  cane,  and 
marched  off  in  his  glory.  Why  should  I  attempt  to 
conceal  it  ?  Lecachey  had  produced  a  profound  impre$- 
sion  on  me.  Such  elegance,  coolness,  and  easy  grace  con- 
fused me.  How  could  he  receive  M.  Aveline's  rebukes 
with  such  unconcern,  and  be  so  profoundly  versed  in 
the  dark  mysteries  of  the  turf  ?  And  that  coat  —  those 
trousers  —  that  handkerchief  —  that  monocle  ! 

He  completed  his  conquest  of  me  at  the  fencing  school, 
where  M.  Goudouneix,  formerly  a  regimental  instructor  in 


44  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE, 

the  use  of  the  foils,  presently  began  to  initiate  us  into 
the  mysteries  of  his  art. 

There  was  more  reason  for  the  admiration  which  M. 
Desbans,  our  mathematical  professor,  inspired  in  me.  I 
was  deeply  attached  to  him,  and  was  already  perfectly 
reconciled  with  my  father's  happy  thought  in  selecting 
him  to  be  my  tutor. 

Tronc-de-C6ne,  as  the  entire  school  called  him,  without 
his  knowing  it,  was  simply  admirable  as  a  professor.  I 
never  met  any  one  who  possessed  in  the  same  degree  as 
he  the  gift  of  simplifying  the  most  intricate  questions,  of 
throwing  light  into  dark  corners  and  dispelling  difficulties 
as  the  wind  carries  off  a  puff  of  smoke.  His  language  was 
sober,  clear,  correct,  effective  as  a  syllogism,  and  yet  ele- 
gant by  reason  of  its  precision.  You  should  have  seen 
him  at  the  blackboard,  tracing  faultless  circles  with  one 
motion  of  his  sure  hand,  building  up  great  edifices  of 
figures,  marshalling  in  serried  battalions  his  wonderful 
equations  !  No  artist  devoted  to  his  art  could  exhibit  more 
conscientiousness  than  he  would  do  in  demonstrating  the 
most  elementary  theorem.  In  cases  of  more  difficulty  he 
was  not  satisfied  to  have  the  demonstration  satisfactory ; 
he  was  determined  it  should  be  decisive,  crushing,  over- 
whelming. The  impression  produced  on  us  at  times  when 
he  was  struggling  with  some  abstruse  problem  was  that  of  a 
hand  to  hand  conflict  between  Titans.  It  seemed  as  if  we 
could  see  him  hurl  his  adversary  to  the  ground,  kneel  on 
its  chest  and  throttle  it  until  it  was  forced  to  acknowledge 
itself  vanquished.  I  often  wonder,  when  I  think  of  it,  how 
any  one  could  have  him  as  professor  and  not  be  enamoured 
of  mathematics. 

Such,  nevertheless,  was  the  ruling  obliquity  of  the  class 
in  rhetoric,  under  pretence  that  we  belonged  to  the 


MY  FRIEND   MOLECULE.  45 

section  of  letters  and  that  our  scientific  ration  was  of  the 
slenderest,  it  was  considered  necessary  to  good  form  to 
slight  this  branch  of  study.  Our  tasks  were  performed  per- 
functorily, "  under  the  leg  ;  "  the  work  at  the  blackboard 
was  bungled  shamefully.  Those  who  were  strongest  in 
Greek  and  Latin  were  most  hardened  in  this  respect, 
and  I  very  well  remember  that  Dutheil  himself  foolishly 
boasted  of  his  slight  acquaintance  with  the  family  of  X's. 

M.  Desbans,  like  all  the  professors  of  the  section  of 
sciences,  was  excused  from  wearing  the  academic  gown ; 
because  of  the  immoderate  use  he  made  of  the  chalk  from 
morning  until  night,  he  dressed  habitually  in  light  colors. 
Add  to  that  a  smooth  shaven  chin,  hair  of  a  pepper  and 
salt  hue,  to  correspond  with  his  clothes,  cheeks  as  red  as 
love-apples,  and  bright  handsome  eyes,  a  little  inclined  to 
rove,  as  becomes  a  man  whose  thoughts  are  perpetually 
wandering  in  space. 

His  absent-mindedness  was  naturally  the  occasion  of  a 
host  of  small  and  more  or  less  ingenious  mystifications 
which  his  pupils,  and  sometimes  even  his  younger  col- 
leagues, were  pleased  to  visit  on  him.  One  of  the  most 
common  of  these  pleasantries  consisted  in  obliterating, 
under  his  very  nose  and  without  his  perceiving  it,  one  of 
the  letters  with  which  he  had  marked  his  diagram  on  the 
blackboard.  With  perfect  composure  he  would  replace 
the  missing  sign,  perhaps  only  to  find  it  missing  again  a 
moment  later.  Scarcely  a  week  passed  that  this  vener- 
able jest  was  not  repeated. 

Sometimes,  however,  the  boys  were  unable  to  restrain 
their  merriment  and  M.  Desbans  was  apprised  of  what 
was  going  on.  Then  the  slumbering  lion  in  him  woke. 

He  proceeded  to  what  he  called  the  tracing  of  the  diag- 
onal, —  a  strange  manoeuvre,  practised  by  no  one  but 


46  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

himself,  which  consisted  in  drawing  an  imaginary  line 
from  the  ertd  of  one  bench  to  the  opposite  extremity  of 
another  bench,  after  which  he  noted  the  names  of  those 
students  who  chanced  to  be  beneath  the  line  for  the  pur- 
pose of  visiting  on  them  the  penalties  made  and  provided 
in  such  cases.  It  was  one  way  of  fixing  the  responsibility. 

It  was  ludicrous  to  see  the  dodging  of  the  unlucky  ones 
to  avoid  being  caught  under  the  fatal  line.  But  it  availed 
them  not.  Tronc-de-C6ne  had  accurately  counted  the 
number  of  his  victims  ;  he  was  inexorable  in  demanding 
his  full  tale,  and  the  list  of  the  proscribed  was  transmitted 
to  the  proctor  without  delay. 

Not  that  he  was  influenced  by  the  slightest  feeling  of 
revengefulness.  He  was  too  kind  for  that,  and  I  believe 
that  if  he  had  listened  to  the  promptings  of  his  heart  he 
would  have  much  preferred  to  laugh  with  us  over  his  in- 
curable defect  ;  but  he  considered  it  his  duty  to  be  strict 
when  the  occasion  demanded  it,  and  was  not  the  man  to 
tamper  with  his  duty,  however  unpleasant  it  might  be. 
Dear  M.  Desbans  !  a  single  hour  at  the  blackboard  alone, 
in  his  company,  taught  me  to  appreciate  at  its  real  worth 
his  perfect  uprightness,  his  childlike  candour  reinforced 
by  the  most  unerring  judgment  and  a  mathematical  genius 
that  was  truly  wonderful. 

After  that  I  should  have  regarded  it  as  little  less  than 
criminal  to  participate  in  the  tricks  that  were  played  on 
him.  I  was  often  forced,  however,  contrary  to  my  inclina- 
tion, to  be  a  passive  spectator  of  performances  which, 
while  harmless  in  themselves,  no  doubt,  were  yet  to  be 
regretted  as  casting  ridicule  on  a  distinguished  savant  and 
worthy  man. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


TO    MONSIEUR    ALBERT    BESNARD,  AT    THE    LYCEE    MON- 
TAIGNE,   PARIS. 


ask  me,  my  dear  Parisian,  what  I  am  doing  at 
Bourgas.  Eh,  parblen  !  I  chafe  and  fume  all  day 
long  ;  that  's  what  I  do.  I  chafe  because  I  have  finished 
my  education  without  reflecting  that  it  is  only  a  beginning, 
and  that  to  make  a  long  journey  for  the  sake  of  arriving 
nowhere  is  a  useless  and  absurd  proceeding.  I  chafe 
because  I  am  a  sort  of  gentleman  and  can  repeat  a  number 
of  lines  of  the  Georgics,  and  at  the  same  time  am  unable 
to  be  of  any  assistance  to  my  poor  mother,  who  is  ruining 
her  health  in  trying  to  run  our  little  farm.  I  chafe 
because  I  have  a  bachelor's  degree  in  my  pocket,  and  not 
the  ghost  of  a  trade  or  calling  at  my  finger  ends.  I  chafe 
because  I  am  compelled  to  eat  a  bread  that  it  would 
trouble  me  to  earn. 

"My  poor  Albert,  how  I  congratulate  you  on  having 
none  of  those  cares  to  worry  you  !  How  lucky  you  are 
that  for  a  year  or  two  you  have  only  to  learn  your  lessons 
and  perform  your  tasks,  then  enter  the  law  school,  after 
which  you  will  slip  into  the  comfortable  leather  -  covered 
armchair  that  is  awaiting  you  in  a  stock-broker's  office  ! 
That  is  the  future  that  your  excellent  father  has  marked 
out  for  you,  is  it  not  ?  And  what  better  can  you  do  than 
follow  the  beaten  highway  that  his  loving-kindness  has 
prepared  for  you  ? 


48  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"As  regards  birth  and  wealth,  my  dear  friend,  I  am  a 
nullity ;  I  am  but  the  very  ordinary  offspring  of  a  small 
farmer.  I  need  to  make  for  myself,  and  that  immediately 
and  without  being  the  cause  of  further  expense,  a  decent 
and  adequate  subsistence.  How  am  I  to  do  it  and  what 
course  am  I  to  adopt  ?  I  have  been  reflecting  on  the 
problem  night  and  day  for  months,  and  am  no  nearer  a 
solution  now  than  in  the  beginning.  Would  it  not  be 
better  for  me  if  I  could  lend  a  hand  in  the  work  that  is 
going  on  upon  the  farm  ? 

"  And  yet,  it  is  a  fine  thing  to  have  gone  through 
college  and  made  acquaintance  with  literature  and  science. 
When  I  think  of  the  matter  calmly,  I  can  find  nothing  but 
gratitude  in  my  heart  for  those  who  conferred  on  me  that 
inestimable  boon. 

"  Mamma  and  I  had  a  grand  pow-wow  on  this  subject 
yesterday.  You  know  how  dearly  she  loves  me  and  how 
she  is  ready  to  strain  every  nerve  to  start  me  in  a  career 
of  my  selection.  What  did  she  do  but  propose  to  pack 
me  off  to  Paris,  to  join  you  at  the  Lycee  Montaigne  and 
share  your  studies  with  you !  But  I  knew  that  such  an 
effort  would  mean  ruin  for  her,  and  I  refused  —  with  what 
bitter  regret  I  need  not  say. 

"  After  a  long  and  full  discussion  of  the  matter,  we 
arrived  at  this  decision  :  I  am  to  stay  here  with  her  until 
the  coming  December  and  deliberate  maturely  on  what  is 
best  for  me  to  do.  Then,  my  resolution  once  formed,  I 
shall  stick  to  it  undeviatingly.  It  is  more  than  likely  that 
my  decision  will  be  for  the  military  career.  In  that  case 
I  should  enlist  for  two  years  in  a  line  regiment,  to  give 
me  an  opportunity  to  prepare  myself  at  leisure  for  the 
examination  at  Saint  -  Cyr  without  putting  mamma  to 
more  expense.  You  know  that  was  what  good  old  Captain 


TO  MONSIEUR  ALBERT  BESNARD.  49 

Biradent,  our  professor  of  gymnastics  at  the  Lyce"e  of 
Chatillon,  advised  me  to  do.  He  always  declared  that 
I  would  make  an  excellent  major  of  chasseurs  a  pied.  I 
don't  feel  quite  as  sure  of  that  as  he  did  ;  however,  if  my 
choice  falls  in  that  direction,  I  shall  try  to  do  my 
best. 

"  In  the  meantime,  while  waiting  to  know  my  fate,  I  sit 
for  hours  at  a  stretch  and  contemplate  the  form  of  things, 
studying  the  movements,  the  lines,  the  outline  and  per- 
spective of  animals  and  men  ;  I  cannot  conceive  how  a 
man  blessed  with  a  pair  of  eyes  could  ever  tire  of  using 
them.  That  might  with  considerable  justice  be  called 
loafing,  but  —  how  shall  I  express  my  meaning  ?  —  the 
occupation  seems  to  teach  me  something  ;  this  education 
of  my  eyes  constitutes  for  me  a  study  which  interests  me 
more  than  I  care  to  have  it  do,  and  I  reproach  myself  for 
it  because  it  is  without  definite  object.  Outside  of  that, 
when  I  tell  myself  that  I  ought  to  be  doing  something,  do 
you  know  what  I  turn  my  hand  to  ?  I  go  fishing  ;  I  take 
magnificent  carp  in  the  Leze.  I  should  like  to  hunt,  but 
if  I  were  to  take  out  a  permit  I  should  seem  to  be  treating 
myself  to  a  luxury  to  which  I  had  no  right  ;  I  should  be 
obliged  to  ask  mamma  for  money  to  pay  for  the  privilege, 
purchase  a  gun,  and  feed  a  great  dog,  and  all  that  is  more 
than  she  can  afford. 

"  And,  speaking  of  Captain  Biradent,  do  you  know  that 
I  miss  him  dreadfully,  —  him,  his  gymnasium,  and  his 
sound  advice  ? 

"'I  have  made  myself  a  trapeze  ;  the  blacksmith  who 
comes  every  other  day  to  set  our  plowshares  managed 
to  hammer  out  a  pair  of  rings  that  answer  fairly  well. 
But  my  old-time  zest  is  gone.  You  have  no  idea  how 
monotonous  those  exercises  become  when  you  have  no  one 


Of  THE 


50  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

to  share  them  with  you.  Emulation  is  the  life  and  soul 
of  gymnastics. 

' "  I  wonder  if  you  could  ever  guess  what  is  my  favourite 
exercise  just  at  the  present  time  !  It  is  felling  great 
forest  trees  with  an  axe.  A  rather  expensive  amusement, 
you  will  say,  and  it  is  true  that  my  humble  means  would 
not  admit  of  it  ;  I  have  no  forests,  no  trees,  and  it  is  as 
much  as  ever  if  I  own  an  axe.  But  my  lucky  star  some 
time  since  caused  me  to  foregather  with  an  extremely 
affable  and  courteous  young  ranger,  and  it  was  while 
walking  with  him  in  the  wood  'of  Gua  and  observing  the 
superb  poses  of  the  men  as  they  laid  low  the  magnificent 
oaks  that  I  was  seized  with  the  desire  to  try  my  hand  at 
the  work.  Since  then,  it  has  become  a  genuine  passion 
with  me,  a  passion  the  more  ridiculously  inconsistent  that, 
as  you  are  aware,  no  one  more  sincerely  admires  a  beautiful 
tree  in  its  lusty  glory  than  your  humble  servant. 

"  Possibly  it  may  be  a  result  of  that  very  admiration, 
but  I  love  to  pit  my  puny  strength  against  one  of  those 
giants  of  the  forest.  So  long  as  it  is  condemned,  since  it 
is  doomed  to  fall  in  order  to  make  way  for  other  and  more 
valuable  growths,  give  its  neighbours  light  and  air,  or 
afford  space  for  the  opening  of  a  new  road,  why  should  it 
not  fall  by  my  hand  ?  The  labour  develops  my  strength, 
affords  wholesome  exercise  for  my  muscles,  and  is  in  itself 
an  art.  The  giant  is  attacked  near  the  ground,  with  well 
calculated  blows,  at  each  of  which  a  great  wedge-shaped 
chip  is  released.  In  the  beginning,  the  woodsman  may 
slash  away  with  vigour,  but  as  the  wound  becomes  deeper 
and  approaches  the  heart  of  the  tree  he  has  to  proceed 
more  cautiously  and  give  his  blows  a  definite  direction. 
At  last  the  entire  enormous  weight  of  trunk  and  branches 
is  supported  solely  by  a  slender  pedicle  only  a  few  centi- 


"  THE    GIANT    IS    ATTACKED    CLOSE    TO    THE    GROUND." 


TO  MONSIEUR   ALBERT  BESNARD.  53 

metres  in  thickness.  Then,  due  precautions  having  been 
observed,  and  the  bystanders  directed  to  a  place  of  safety, 
a  stout  rope  that  has  previously  been  made  fast  to  the 
upper  branches  is  tautened,  and  the  lordly  giant  comes 
crashing  to  the  ground.  The  shrubs  and  saplings  in  its 
'path,  small  secondary  lives  whose  fate  is  involved  in  that 
great  life,  are  beaten  down.  Sometimes,  away  up  in  the 
summit,  there  is  a  bird's  nest,  but  the  young  brood  has 
long  since  left  its  quarters,  fortunately,  and  the  little  dwell- 
ing is  empty  and  deserted.  The  report  of  a  cannon,  the 
roar  of  a  whole  battery  of  artillery,  is  as  nothing  compared 
with  the  thundering  crash  of  that  fall.  It  is  might,  maj- 
esty, grandeur  surviving  even  in  the  moment  of  dissolu- 
tion. You  will  tell  me  that  when  in  the  spring  the  little 
birds  return  from  their  foreign  trip  they  will  vainly  seek 
their  familiar  oak  and  will  be  compelled  to  build  them  a 
new  house.  Why  should  they  not  ?  Is  it  so  desirable 
always  to  depend  on  the  house  of  one's  father's  building  ? 
Is  not  the  home  provided  by  the  labour  of  one's  own  hands 
the  best  ? 

"  But  I  suppose  you  will  say  I  have  given  no  valid  rea- 
son why  I  find  such  pleasure  in  playing  the  part  of  lord 
high  executioner.  Well,  I  will  tell  you  ;  the  real  reason  is 
emulation.  The  choppers  employed  by  my  friend,  the 
ranger,  all  have  such  splendidly  developed  arms  and 
shoulders  that  my  first  impulse  was  to  draw  them,  my 
second  to  see  if  I  could  not  equal  them. 

"  I  think  that  I  am  in  a  fair  way  to  attain  my  end.  But, 
apart  from  that,  I  have  taken  a  liking  to  the  occupation 
for  its  own  sake,  and  now  I  am  proud  to  say  that  I  think 
I  can  fell  a  tree  as  handily  as  a  professional  wood-cutter. 

"  There  is  a  calling  all  ready  to  my  hand,  you  will  say. 
You  need  not  laugh  ;  I  have  thought  of  it.  But  it  would 


54  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

be  a  disappointment  for  my  poor  mamma,  whose  dreams 
for  me  are  all  of  wealth  and  glory. 

" '  Was  it  for  such  an  end  as  that  that  I  sent  you  to 
college  ? '  she  would  be  justified  in  saying  to  me. 

"  My  friend,  the  ranger,  advises  me  to  enter  the  School 
of  Forestry.  I  should  like  that  very  much.  Life  in  the 
open  air,  under  the  lofty  forest  domes,  in  constant  com- 
munion with  nature,  would  suit  me  exactly.  But  it  is  an 
expensive  career.  In  addition  to  the  charge  for  board  and 
tuition  at  the  school,  there  are  c'ostly  uniforms  to  be  pro- 
cured, which,  together  with  other  matters,  put  the  project 
beyond  our  reach.  The  entire  expense  would  amount  to 
some  ten  or  twelve  thousand  francs,  and  that  is  more  than 
we  have  to  spare.  Therefore,  I  must  be  thinking  of  some- 
thing else,  and  that  is  what  I  am  doing,  night  and  day. 

"  Adieu,  —  write  me  often  and  at  length,  as  you  did  last 
time,  with  lots  of  details.  Let  me  know  what  you  are 
doing,  share  with  me  your  more  serious  thoughts.  Your 
Parisians  cannot  all  be  such  frivolous  creatures  as  you 
depict  them.  There  is  one  thing  in  the  world  which  I  am 
determined  shall  not  grow  rusty  —  our  friendship. 

"JACQUES  BAUDOUIN." 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    CAGNOTTE. A    PHILOSOPHER. 

AMONG  Thomereau's  intermittent  manias,  one  of  the 
most  deplorable  was  to  circulate  in  the  class-room 
"questions,"  generally  of  a  highly  ridiculous  nature,  which 
no  one  could  answer  and  of  which  he  alone  had  the  solu- 
tion. The  answer  of  the  problem  was  most  frequently  a 
pun  of  venerable  antiquity. 

We  used  to  laugh  at  these  absurdities,  but  they  often 
trenched  too  much  on  valuable  time,  and  the  more  studious 
were  ill-pleased  to  have  their  attention  distracted  by  such 
idle  nonsense. 

In  the  end  public  sentiment  manifested  itself  in  almost 
unanimous  protests,  and  one  fine  morning,  Dutheil,  upon 
whom  the  buffoon's  mania  seemed  to  produce  a  particularly 
aggravating  effect,  laid  before  us  the  following  proposi- 
tion : 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said  to  us  as  we  came  trooping  out 
into  the  courtyard  at  recess  time,  "  it  is  becoming  every 
day  more  necessary  to  introduce  reforms  into  the  class, 
for  unless  we  do  we  may  as  well  give  up  trying  to  do  our 
work.  We  might  do  worse  than  borrow  from  the  Taupins 
an  expedient  which  they  assert  works  excellently." 

"  A  truce  to  preambles  !     Give  us  the  expedient !  " 

"  You  are  all  aware  of  the  thousand  little  annoyances 
that  owe  their  existence  to  our  life  in  common,  —  a  heed- 


56  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

less  fellow  goes  out  and  forgets  to  shut  the  door  behind 
him,  another  gets  possession  of  a  book  in  the  library  and 
monopolizes  it,  a  few  will  disturb  a  whole  roomful  of  people 
by  their  noisy  conversation,  a  senseless  '  question '  is 
handed  round  from  bench  to  bench  in  study  hours  and  dis- 
tracts our  attention  from  our  work.  Thus  it  is  that  twenty 
times  a  day  occasions  arise  when  we  should  all  be  glad  if 
it  were  in  our  power  to  put  a  stop  to  an  abuse  that 
incommodes  us,  a  trespass  of  some  one  on  his  neighbour's 
comfort  and  liberty  —  " 

We  were  beginning  to  be  puzzled  by  this  exordium. 
What  was  Dutheil  driving  at  ?  Our  expectancy  was  voiced 
in  those  isolated  exclamations  and  indistinct  murmurs  that 
the  newspaper  reports  of  parliamentary  proceedings  refer 
to  as  "  signs  of  interest  in  the  galleries." 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  pursued  the  orator,  "  those  petty 
annoyances  that  we  are  all  acquainted  with  and  from  which 
we  all  are  sufferers,  what  is  really  their  single  and  only 
cause  ?  I  will  tell  you,  —  it  is  the  absence  of  a  code  of 
manners  among  us  boys,  a  rigorous,  inflexible  code,  in 
which  all  offences  are  provided  for  and  an  adequate  penalty 
imposed  for  each  delinquency  - 

Chorus  of  voices  :  "  That's  true  !  " 

"This  is  the  conclusion,  gentlemen,  that  was  reached  by 
the  eminently  practical  minds  of  our  colleagues  of  the 
Taupiniere.  They  have  done  what  we  should  have  done 
long  ago, —  drawn  up  a  full  and  complete  list  of  all  the 
small  sins  of  which  a  member  of  the  great  scholastic  fra- 
ternity may  render  himself  guilty,  to  the  detriment  of 
good  order  and  the  public  peace,  and  visited  each  pecca- 
dillo with  a  fine  of  a  few  centimes  — 

( Here  Dutheil  drew  from  his  pocket  a  sheet  of  paper 
and  consulted  it.) 


THE    CAGNOTTE.  —  A   PHILOSOPHER.  $? 

"Here  are  the  rules  and  regulations  of  the  Taupins," 
he  continued.  "  They  are  in  full  force,  and  our  neighbours 
find  themselves  the  better  for  them.  Laws  that  are  self- 
imposed  are  seldom  questioned.  In  this  remarkable  doc- 
ument, the  following  things  are  henceforth  and  forever 
forbidden : 

" '  First,  to  leave  the  door  open,  when  it  was  previously 
closed ; 

" '  Secondly,  to  remain  more  than  ten  minutes  at  the 
blackboard ; 

"  '  Thirdly,  to  leave  the  blackboard  without  having  first 
wiped  out  all  chalk  marks ; 

" «  Fourthly,  to  neglect  to  replace  the  sponge  ; 

" '  Fifthly,  no  one  shall  sneeze,  or  blow  his  nose  in  a* 
loud  and  boisterous  manner ; 

"  <  Sixthly,  to  appropriate  to  one's  use  for  a  longer  pe- 
riod than  fifteen  minutes  the  books  of  reference  intended 
for  the  public  use ; 

" « Seventhly,  sleeping  is  prohibited  in  the  studies,  and' 
in  the  class-rooms  ; 

"  '  Eighthly,  no  one  shall  disturb  one  or  several  com- 
rades by  idle  and  useless  questions,  whether  oral  or 
written ; 

"  *  Ninthly,  it  is  forbidden  to  trouble  the  public  order, 
or  call  attention  to  oneself  in  an  unseemly  manner  in 
any  of  the  rooms  set  apart  for  public  use.' 

"  Such  are  the  nine  articles  of  the  code  promulgated  by 
the  Taupins,  and  such  is  the  general  interest  in  securing 
their  observance  that  perfect  quiet  now  reigns  in  their 
quarters.  Don't  you  think  it  might  be  well  if  we,  too, 
were  to  adopt  so  judicious  a  set  of  rules  ? " 

The  proposition  was  received  with  very  moderate  en- 
thusiasm. 


58  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  Good  !  "  said  a  voice,  "we  have  n't  rules  enough  as  it 
is,  it  would  seem  that  we  must  go  to  work  and  manufac- 
ture a  lot  of  others !  " 

Dutheil  stood  his  ground. 

"  I  was  looking  for  that  objection,  and  you  may  be  sure 
it  was  thought  of  among  the  Taupins  as  well  as  here. 
But  the  sanction  given  to  the  arrangement  must  not  be 
lost  sight  of,  —  the  question  of  the  fines  imposed  for  every 
offence,  and  which  are  the  point  on  which  the  whole 
affair  hinges.  It  is  they  that  constitute  the  source  of  all 
the  pleasure." 

"  Is  it  a  pleasure  to  pay  fines  ?  " 

"  No,  not  to  pay  them,  exactly,  but  to  make  others  pay 
them  when  they  are  detected  transgressing." 

This  prospect  appeared  to  stimulate  a  little  the  languid 
interest  of  the  audience. 

"The  product  of  those  fines,"  Dutheil  insidiously  con- 
tinued, "goes  into  a  common  fund,  a  cagnotte,  and  at  the 
end  of  the  year  this  fund  may  be  converted  into  books, 
weapons  of  the  chase,  a  boat,  or  whatever  those  who  have 
an  interest  in  it  may  decide." 

The  idea  appeared  less  preposterous  now,  and  it  was 
clear  that  Dutheil  had  gained  his  cause. 

"  We  might  offer  a  prize  for  the  encouragement  of 
French  poetry,"  timidly  suggested  Molecule. 

"  Or  endow  a  fund  for  purposes  of  travel  and  explora- 
tion," proposed  Verschuren. 

"I  have  a  better  plan  than  that,"  cried  Chavass^,*:  "it 
is  to  take  the  proceeds  of  the  fines,  and  treat  ourselves  to 
the  biggest  spread  that  was  ever  heard  of !  " 

Is  it  necessary  to  say  that  this  suggestion  met  with  an 
overwhelming  success  ?  It  was  the  means,  indeed,  of  car- 
rying the  day  for  Dutheil's  proposition. 


THE    CAGNOTTE.—A    PHILOSOPHER.  59 

"  Yes !  that  's  it !  Chavasse  has  hit  it !  Hurrah  for 
Chavasse  and  his  stomach !  "  were  some  of  the  cries  that 
rose  on  every  side. 

The  author  of  the  amendment,  suddenly  raised  aloft  on 
a  dozen  shoulders,  was,  for  a  moment,  in  danger  of  mak- 
ing a  triumphal  progress  through  the  courtyard. 

Dutheil  was  calm  and  self-possessed,  though  manifestly 
well  pleased  with  the  success  of  his  proposal. 

"  Gentlemen,  there  will  be  abundant  time  to  decide  how 
the  fines  shall  be  employed.  What  we  have  to  do  first,  is 
to  fix  their  amount.  I  propose  ten  centimes  for  each  in- 
fraction of  the  rules,  and  fifty  centimes  in  case  of  a  repe- 
tition of  the  offence  on  the  same  day." 

"  That  is  not  enough ! "  shouted  Chavasse,  whose  popu- 
larity had  evidently  turned  his  head.  "At  that  figure, 
the  best  we  could  afford  would  be  a  dinner  at  the  Palais- 
Royal.  If  we  are  to  have  a  first-class  spread,  such  as  I 
have  in  mind,  the  fines  must  be  made  larger." 

"  If  they  should  be  made  larger,  they  might  prove  bur- 
densome in  some  cases.  The  best  way  to  swell  the  fund 
will  be  to  maintain  a  strict  surveillance,  and  see  that  each 
offender  contributes  his  share.  Even  at  ten  centimes,  the 
results  obtained  will  be  very  gratifying.  Among  the 
Taupins,  the  average  is  twenty  infractions  a  day,  which 
gives  two  francs,  and  counting  one  second  offence,  two 
francs,  fifty  centimes  ;  at  the  end  of  the  year,  even  reduc- 
ing the  number  of  school  days  to  250,  these  figures  pro- 
duce a  total  of  625  francs.  That  is  enough  to  provide  a 
luxurious  banquet,  even  after  setting  aside  a  large  sum 
for  charitable  purposes,  as  I  am  sure  we  should  all  wish 

to  do." 

«» 

"Good  !  good  !  Let  's  adopt  the  Taupins'  plan  !  Vote  ! 
Vote!" 


60  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  Very  well,  then,  we  will  proceed  to  vote.  All  those 
who  are  in  favour  of  adopting  the  Taupins'  arrangement 
as  it  stands  will  raise  their  hand." 

Every  hand  went  up. 

"  Now,  all  who  are  opposed  —  what,  no  opposition  ? 
Carried  unanimously.  Gentlemen,  if  it  is  your  will,  we 
will  nail  the  regulations  to  the  door  of  the  library  and 
from  this  time  forth  they  will  be  rigidly  enforced." 

The  famous  regulations  which  were  to  restore  to  Divi- 
sion No.  i  the  era  of  peace  and  order  did  not  produce 
exactly  that  result  on  the  first  day.  We  all  seemed  ani- 
mated with  a  desire  to  see  how  often  we  could  break  the 
rules,  the  purpose  being  to  incur  a  fine  and  swell  the 
fund.  There  were  constant  trips  to  the  library  to  take 
possession  of  the  books,  desk  lids  were  violently  slammed, 
there  was  an  epidemic  of  coughing,  noses  were  boisterously 
blown  when  there  was  no  necessity  — 

The  total  collections  were  enormous.  There  were  no 
less  than  sixty  violations,  and  Dutheil,  who  had  been 
made  treasurer,  took  in  the  handsome  sum  of  five  or  six 
francs,  all  in  big  copper  sous. 

But  this  excessive  ardour  cooled  after  a  few  days.  Once 
the  nucleus  of  the  fund  was  formed,  no  one  thought  of  in- 
creasing it,  voluntarily,  and  every  one  was  as  careful,  not  to 
incur  a  penalty  himself  as  he  was  prompt  to  report  the 
least  delinquency  of  his  neighbour.  Eternal  vigilance  was 
the  order  of  the  day ;  the  surveillance  was  not  relaxed  for 
a  moment.  No  sooner  had  some  unhappy  youth  heed- 
lessly transgressed  one  of  our  Draconian  laws  than  twenty 
vengeful  voices  were  raised  in  a  shout,  "  Fine  him !  fine 
him ! '  VI  t  made  one  think  of  a  band  of  redskins  in 
pursuit  of  their  victim's  scalp.  The  only  course  for  the 
unlucky  culprit  to  pursue  in  such  a  case  was  to  make  the 


THE    CAGNOTTE.  —  A   PHILOSOPHER.  6 1 

best  of  it  and  pay  the  price  of  his  peccadillo.  An  attempt 
to  deny  the  fault,  or  even  to  argue  the  case,  only  made 
matters  worse ;  the  voice  of  the  objector  was  immediately 
drowned  in  a  chorus  of  objurgation. 

There  was  one  person  in  the  school,  however,  who  had 
every  reason  to  rejoice  at  our  innovation.  That  person 
was  M.  Valadier.  Henceforth  he  might  devote  himself 
with  a  tranquil  conscience  to  his  unfortunate  passion  for 
bouts-rime's,  for,  thanks  to  us,  his  labour  of  surveillance  had 
become  a  sinecure. 

He  was  an  odd  character  in  his  self-effacement,  this 
shy,  modest,  bald-headed  man,  already  beginning  to  show 
his  years,  and  seeming  to  think  of  or  care  for  nothing 
outside  of  his  present  extremely  humble  position.  He 
had  become  a  fixture  in  his.  usher's  calling,  which  to 
others  is  a  stepping-stone  to  something  better  or  a  pur- 
gatory ;  it  seemed  to  him  as  natural  as  the  air  to  the 
bird  or  the  sea  to  the  fish.  The  lycee  was  his  rock, 
Division  No.  I  his  shell.  There  was  a  story  that  the 
principal  one  day  having  assigned  him  to  other  duties, 
M.  Valadier  knew  no  happiness  until  he  was  restored  to 
his  beloved  class-room,  his  desk,  and  his  straw-bottomed 
armchair. 

He  had  contracted  a  bundle  of  queer  habits  which  little 
by  little  had  become  to  him  as  necessary  as  the  air  he 
breathed.  For  instance,  he  always  used  the  stove  in  sum- 
mer as  a  supplementary  closet  in  which  to  keep  his  alpaca 
sleeves,  a  velvet  skullcap  and  a  pair  of  slippers  that  he 
put  on  at  the  beginning  of  every  seance.  The  periodical 
return  of  the  season  when  it  became  necessary  to  renounce 
this  usurpation,  and  restore  the  stove  to  its  legitimate 
functions  as  a  heat  producer,  was  an  annually  recurring 
sorrow  to  the  poor  man. 


62  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

As  for  vacations,  they  were  a  period  of  protracted  tor- 
ture for  him,  and  the  only  drawback  to  the  pleasure  he 
experienced  at  the  reopening  of  the  school  was  the  pros- 
pect of  seeing  new  faces  in  his  room.  But  alas !  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  perfect  happiness  in  this  world,  and  the 
students  in  rhetoric  really  could  not  be  expected  to  follow 
his  example  and  become  fixtures  in  the  Lycee  Montaigne 
solely  in  order  to  avoid  disturbing  the  habits  of  their 
usher. 

Another  of  his  hobbies  was  to  expatiate  to  us  on  the 
exceptional  advantages  of  his  position  and  endeavour  to 
make  proselytes  to  his  doctrine.  It  could  not  be  said  of 
him  that  he  was  eternally  grumbling  at  his  lot  !  Nothing 
angered  him  so  quickly  as  the  discredit,  entirely  unjus- 
tified in  his  opinion,  which  the  world  attached  to  his 
functions. 

"  Pion!  —  One  thinks  he  has  said  everything  in  saying, 
Pion!  Well,  for  my  part,  I  am  proud  to  be  an  usher,  I  am 
content  to  be  an  usher,  and  I  hope  to  remain  an  usher  to 
the  end  of  my  days.  You  may  just  tell  the  imbeciles  that, 
and  inform  them  I  said  so." 

Up  to  the  present  time  the  only  thorn  in  the  side  of 
this  philosopher  had  been  the  necessity  of  exercising  sur- 
veillance over  the  students,  and  now  the  institution  of  the 
cagnotte  had  suddenly  relieved  him  of  this  burden.  Had 
he  not  reason  to  believe  that  he  had  reached  the  summit 
of  earthly  felicity  ? 

As  for  us  boys,  after  a  week  of  experience  we  were  not 
yet  tired  of  our  system  of  mutual  persecution,  although 
we  had  all  paid  frequent  tribute  to  Dutheil's  treasury. 

All,  however,  with  one  exception  —  Thomereau  !  For 
a  whole  week  the  young  rascal  had  escaped  being  caught 
transgressing.  There  were  no  more  puns  perpetrated  in 


THE    CAGNOTTE.  —  A    PHILOSOPHER.  63 

study  hours,  the  little  notes  no  longer  circulated  furtively 
from  hand  to  hand.  Thomereau  had  all  at  once  become 
the  model  of  all  the  virtues.  And  what  was  more,  no  one 
had  been  so  inflexible  an  agent  in  enforcing  the  rules,  no 
one's  conscience  was  burdened  with  the  weight  of  so  many 
fines  inflicted  upon  others. 

A  fierce  longing  to  be  revenged  began  to  ferment  in 
the  bosoms  of  the  little  community.  Secret  conclaves 
were  held  in  the  corners  of  the  courtyard,  measures  were 
concerted  that  it  was  supposed  must  infallibly  lead 
Thomereau  to  break  the  law. 

Vain  were  all  our  efforts.  He  had  sworn  to  go  scathe- 
less through  the  year,  and  was  not  to  be  caught  in  any  of 
our  carefully  baited  traps.  He  who  had  always  been  so 
noisy  and  inconsiderate  now  kept  a  strict  watch  on  his 
every  movement,  never  raised  his  eyes  in  school-time 
unless  it  was  to  swoop  down  on  a  delinquent,  and,  to  state 
the  case  in  a  single  word,  was  invulnerable. 

And  at  recess  he  would  turn  the  knife  in  the  wound  by 
saying,  with  a  patronizing  air  : 

"It  is  really  awfully  good  of  you  fellows  to  chip  in  to 
give  me  a  good  dinner,  to  which  I  shall  not  have  contrib- 
uted a  centime." 


UNIVERSITY 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LEGE    QU/ESO. 

I  WAS  now  on  easy  terms  with  my  new  comrades  and 
entirely  at  home  in  the  Lycee  Montaigne.  There 
was  one  thing,  however,  that  astonished  me  and,  to  tell 
the  truth,  humiliated  me  a  little,  which  was  the  little 
attention  I  attracted  in  the  midst  of  the  class  of  eighty 
pupils.  After  the  not  very  flattering  remarks  that  my 
Latin  theme  had  elicited,  I  had  not  been  favoured  with  the 
least  notice  on  the  part  of  M.  Auger.  He  seemed,  in 
fact,  to  be  ignorant  that  such  a  person  as  I  existed. 

Not  only  had  it  so  chanced  that  he  had  never  questioned 
me  or  called  me  up  to  explain  a  passage  in  our  author,  but 
the  tasks  to  which  I  had  given  most  pains  were  passed 
over  without  a  word  of  comment. 

And  yet,  in  each  class,  it  was  the  professor's  custom  to 
select  ten  or  a  dozen  exercises  and  give  his  judgment  of 
them,  always  with  the  candour  and  outspokenness  that  were 
so  eminently  characteristic  of  the  man.  Never  once  had 
my  exercise  been  of  the  number. 

What  seemed  to  me  still  more  strange  and  in  a  certain 
sense  unjust  was  that  day  after  day  the  themes  of  some 
of  our  number,  particularly  Dutheil  and  the  head  ones  of 
the  class,  were  carefully  read,  criticized,  and  dissected  by 
the  master's  merciless  scalpel. 


LEGE    QU^SO.    *  65 

What  was  the  reason  of  this  evident  and  apparently 
premeditated  preference  ?  I  had  heard  that  at  Paris  the 
professors  are  accustomed,  as  must  necessarily  be  the  case 
where  the  classes  are  so  large,  to  bestow  most  of  their 
attention  on  those  students  on  whom  they  think  they  can 
count  for  success  in  the  great  university  tripos.  But  I 
should  never  have  believed  that  this  species  of  favouritism 
would  be  carried  so  far  as  to  entirely  neglect  talents  of  a 
more  modest  order. 

"  It  is  the  sluggards  and  dullards  of  the  class,  on  the 
other  hand,  who  should  be  urged  on  and  made  to  toe  the 
mark,"  I  said  to  myself.  "The  others  can  get  along 
without  a  master,  at  a  pinch." 

Oppressed  by  the  gravity  of  these  considerations,  I 
determined  one  day  to  go  and  see  what  Dutheil  had  to 
say  about  the  matter. 

He  was,  as  I  have  said  before,  an  affable  and  obliging 
fellow,  of  enormous  application,  and  always  very  lucky  at 
examinations,  which  gave  him  a  consciousness  of  power ; 
but  at  the  same  time  there  was  nothing  of  the  pedant  about 
him,  and  he  was  not  disposed  to  be  secretive  in  regard 
to  those  small  methods  which  are  requisite  for  success. 

I  was  much  more  attached  to  him  than  I  was  to  Segol, 
for  instance,  a  great  hulking  fellow  with  a  bull's  neck  and 
the  head  of  a  chimpanzee,  who  was  so  insufferably  con- 
ceited, because  he  had  taken  a  prize  for  Latin  versifica- 
tion the  year  before,  that  there  was  no  approaching  him. 
There  was  nothing  very  extraordinary  in  this,  it  may  be 
said,  for  during  the  last  three  or  four  years  Segol  had 
devoted  himself  body  and  soul  to  this  one  specialty.  He 
did  nothing  else,  took  no  interest  in  anything  else,  had  no 
other  aim  or  object  in  life.  To  read  and  re-read  the 
ALneid,  not  to  admire  its  beauties,  but  to  master  its  tech- 


66  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

nique  and  increase  his  stock  of  images  and  epithets,  to 
explore  unceasingly  the  depths  of  the  Gradus  or  of  Qui- 
cherat's  "Treatise  on  Latin  Prosidy,"  such  was  his  sole 
mission  here  below.  History,  science,  French  or  Latin 
eloquence,  the  beauties  of  Greek  literature  or  those  of  the 
great  English  and  German  authors,  physical  exercises  — 
nothing  of  all  this  was  of  the  least  value  whatever  in  his 
eyes.  The  great,  the  only  question  was  to  know  if  such 
and  such  a  Latin  word  was  composed  of  two  shorts  or  two 
longs,  if  it  was  capable  of  forming  a  dactyl  or  a  spondee. 

Latin  versification  certainly  has  its  advantages,  and  far 
be  it  from  me  to  belittle  its  importance.  It  occupies  a 
place  in  all  liberal  education,  and,  whether  as  a  simple 
intellectual  exercise  or  a  means  to  a  more  correct  appre- 
ciation of  the  Latin  poets,  it  would  be  difficult  to  find 
anything  to  replace  it.  But,  after  all,  it  is  only  a  Jwrs- 
d  'ceuvre,  and  an  accessory ;  to  make  of  it,  as  Segol  did, 
the  piece  de  resistance,  or,  rather,  the  sole  dish  of  the 
classic  banquet,  seemed  to  me  extremely  ill  -  advised. 

However,  it  was  not  so  much  this  hobby  of  his  that 
repelled  me  as  his  arrogant  and  egotistic  air.  And  what 
attracted  me  in  Duthiel,  on  the  other  hand,  was  less  his 
almost  universal  superiority  (except  in  mathematics)  than 
the  frankness  and  simplicity  of  his  manner. 

"  Don't  you  think  it  singular,"  I  said  to  him,  then,  that 
morning,  "  that  M.  Auger  gives  so  much  attention  to  your 
themes  and  constantly  leaves  unnoticed  the  exercises  of 
so  many  other  students  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  if  I  were 
in  your  place  I  should  feel  uncomfortable  to  be  the  object 
of  so  marked  a  preference." 

Dutheil  looked  at  me  with  surprise. 

"  I  don't  know  what  gave  you  that  idea,"  he  said. 
"M.  Auger  treats  me  no  differently  from  the  rest." 


O  L^V 

•    X 

UNIVERSITY) 


67 

"  What  !  is  it  not  true  that  M.  Auger  has  always  some 
comment  to  make  on  your  exercises  ?  " 

"  I  fail  to  see  anything  out  of  the  way  in  that.  It 
would  be  extraordinary,  indeed,  if  he  acted  otherwise." 

Such  assurance  confounded  me. 

•"  But  what  would  you  say  if  you  were  in  my  place  and 
had  handed  ten  carefully  prepared  themes  to  the  professor, 
all  which  were  passed  over  in  silence  ?" 

"  I  should  be  greatly  astonished.  But  such  a  thing  ap- 
pears to  me  hardly  possible.  Did  it  happen  in  your  case  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  it  did.  Every  day  I  enter  the  class-room  hoping 
to  receive  a  word  of  praise  or  censure,  a  criticism,  a  mere 
remark.  But  there  is  nothing,  and  I  am  obliged  to  sit  and 
look  silly,  without  knowing  whether  I  have  done  well  or  ill." 

"That  is  singular!"  said  Dutheil.  "And  you  are 
always  careful  to  write  lege  quceso  on  your  exercise  ?  " 
he  added,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 

It  was  my  turn  to  manifest  surprise. 


"  Lege  quceso  —  please  read  !  What  !  you  did  n't  know  ? 
That  is  a  good  one,  upon  my  word  !  " 

And  he  gave  way  to  a  hearty  fit  of  laughter. 

"  We  always  write  lege  quceso  at  the  head  of  our  theme, 
my  dear  boy,  when  we  wish  our  production  to  be  examined 
by  the  professor.  You  can  see  that  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble to  give  an  opinion  every  day  on  seventy-five  exercises  ; 
such  a  labour  would  be  beyond  the  powers  even  of  a  man 
of  M.  Auger's  ability  !  So  many  compositions  are  written 
without  care  or  thought,  simply  to  avoid  punishment  !  It 
would  be  equally  hard  on  the  master  and  on  the  class  to 
compel  them  to  waste  valuable  time  on  such  performances. 
It  is  no  small  task  that  he  has  to  read  them  all  in  his  hours 
of  leisure,  in  order  that  his  proper  standing  may  be  given 


68  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

to  each  man.  So  recourse  is  had  to  an  expedient.  Every 
student  who  omits  to  preface  his  composition  with  the 
classic  formula  admits,  ipso  facto,  that  his  work  is  poor, 
hastily  prepared,  and  unworthy  of  the  public  recognition 
of  the  master,  and  that  all  that  is  asked  for  it  is  the  silence 
and  obscurity  of  an  examination  in  private.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  who  has  taken  pains  with  his  work,  endeavouring 
conscientiously  to  produce  the  best  that  is  in  him,  if  he 
will  but  mark  it  with  those  two  words,  lege  quczso,  is  cer- 
tain to  see  it  read,  annotated,  and  criticized  by  a  competent 
judge  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  class.  Do  you  not 
consider  that  a  fair  arrangement  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  fair,  and  you  cannot  imagine  what  a  load  you 
have  taken  off  my  mind,"  I  said  to  Dutheil.  "It  was  with 
the  greatest  reluctance,  I  assure  you,  that  I  accused  M. 
Auger  of  partiality.  He  has  such  a  candid,  honest  way 
with  him  !  " 

"There  is  no  better  man  in  all  the  world,  as  there  is 
none  more  respected  for  his  learning.  It  is  an  inestima- 
ble boon  to  have  him  for  our  professor,  and  some  day  you 
will  see  how  we  shall  appreciate  that  advantage." 

The  veil  had  dropped  from  my  eyes.  Thenceforth  I  was 
possessed  by  a  single  thought,  —  to  give  the  measure  of 
my  powers  in  a  theme  as  good  as  I  could  produce,  and  at 
last  secure  M.  Auger's  opinion  of  my  performance. 

It  so  happened  that  on  the  following  day  we  were  to 
hand  in  a  French  composition,  the  subject  of  which  was 
entirely  to  my  liking  : 

"  Alcuin  submits  to  Charlemagne  and  his  counsellors  the 
necessity  of  establishing  schools  throughout  the  land." 

French  composition  had  been  my  strong  point  at 
Chatillon.  Not  only  had  I  been  awarded  the  prize  of 
honour  the  preceding  year,  but  on  the  occasion  of  a  visit 


LEGE   QU&SO.  69 

to  the  lycee  by  an  illustrious  statesman  who  was  making 
the  tour  of  the  department,  I  had  been  selected  to  deliver 
the  address  of  welcome,  and  my  "  lams "  had  had  the 
honour  of  being  printed  in  the  Guetteur  de  la  Leze.  I  may 
say  without  vanity  that  the  aforesaid  "lai'us"  was  con- 
sidered a  creditable  performance,  and,  on  the  strength  of 
this  single  specimen  of  my  academic  eloquence,  several  of 
my  father's  friends  had  urged  him  to  select  the  bar  as  my 
career. 

I  flattered  myself,  therefore,  that  I  was  able  to  write 
four  or  five  pages  of  French  not  wholly  unworthy  of  M. 
Auger's  approbation,  and,  fortified  by  the  counsel  that 
Dutheil  had  given  me,  I  buckled  down  to  my  task  with 
determination.  At  all  events,  I  could  depend  now  on 
being  read  and  judged  in  accordance  with  my  desert. 

The  incubation  of  my  masterpiece  occupied  me  no  less 
than  three  hours.  After  I  had  adorned  and  beautified  it, 
scattering  through  it  with  a  lavish  hand  all  the  flowers  of 
my  imagination  and  all  the  graces  of  my  style,  after  I  had 
read  and  re-read  it,  and  even  carried  it  out  to  the  court- 
yard to  submit  it  to  Verschuren's  critical  acumen  (I 
thought  he  would  be  interested  in  the  glory  that  must  ac- 
crue to  our  common  birthplace),  I  finally  decided  to  make 
a  fair  copy  of  it  in  my  very  best  chirography,  and  at  the 
head  of  my  production,  opposite  my  name,  I  wrote  the  two 
fateful  words. 

At  last  I  abandoned  the  fruit  of  my  labours  to  its  fate, 
and  beheld  it  flutter  away  in  company  with  the  other 
leaves,  first  into  the  "correspondence  basket,"  then  to  M. 
Auger's  desk,  and  finally  into  his  coat  pocket. 

To  say  that  I  was  unmoved  when,  on  the  following  day, 
the  solemn  moment  came  for  the  exercises  to  emerge  from 
those  same  secret  recesses  would  certainly  be  a  wicked 


/O  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

untruth.  Where  is  the  conscript  whose  heart  did  not  beat 
on  hearing  the  cannon  for  the  first  time  ?  However,  the 
memory  of  my  Chatillonian  laurels  sustained  me,  and  with 
a  slight  modification  of  Bailly's  words  I  might  have 
said  : 

"  I  tremble,  but  it  is  with  hope." 

M.  Auger  reviewed  one  after  another  the  papers  of  five 
or  six  of  my  comrades.  He  commended  Dutheil's,  and 
even  read  us  a  page  or  two  of  it  that  he  considered  par- 
ticularly happy.  With  the  others  he  was  less  tender. 

At  last  he  reached  my  name. 

"M.  Besnard,"  he  said. 

A  film  passed  across  my  eyes.  All  my  blood  flowed 
back  on  my  heart.  I  was  pale  as  a  man  listening  to  his 
death  sentence. 

"  M.  Besnard,"  the  professor  went  on,  "gives  us  to-day 
what  the  English  call  a  maiden  speech,  a  discours  d'essai. 
I  regret  that  I  am  unable  to  say,  with  Corneille,  that  this 
coup  d'essai  is  a  coup  de  maitre.  M.  Besnard,  I  should  be 
sorry  to  state  if  I  were  not  here  for  that  very  purpose,  does 
not  seem  to  have  formed  a  very  clear  idea  of  the  kind  of 
composition  that  was  assigned  him.  He  appears  to  think 
that,  in  order  to  perpetuate  what  is  known  in  rhetoric  as 
Discours  Fran$ais,  it  is  sufficient  to  string  out  in  long 
array  the  more  or  less  judicious  ideas  which  present  them- 
selves to  his  mind  and  strike  him  as  having  some  connec- 
tion with  the  subject.  He  totally  disregards  the  canvas 
given  him  to  treat,  and  makes  no  attempt  to  develop  it. 
The  evil  would  not  be  so  great  if  the  elements  he  intro- 
duces had  any  real  value,  but  the  opposite  is  the  case,  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  as  regards  one  or  two  paragraphs. 

"  I  cannot  repeat  too  often,  speaking  in  a  general  way, 
that  it  is  best  you  should  adhere  closely  to  the  subjects  I 


"AS    FOR    ME,    I    WAS    DUMFOUNDED." 


LEGE    QU^SO.  73 

give  you  to  develop,  the  object  being  to  form  your  minds 
to  habits  of  logical  deduction.  When  you  are  writing  a 
historical  narrative,  for  instance,  it  is  permissible  to  give 
your  imagination  freer  play,  and  adopt  for  your  ideas  the 
order  that  appears  to  you  most  attractive.  The  object  of 
the  exercise  which  we  call  Discours  Frangais  is  simply  to 
afford  you  a  lesson  in  ratiocination  reduced  to  its  elemen- 
tary terms,  and  to  which  you  are  to  give  only  a  natural 
expansion.  The  very  disorder  of  the  arguments  used  by 
M.  Besnard  shows  what  need  his  understanding  has  of  such 
a  training." 

What  words  have  I  fit  to  express  the  torments  of  my 
little  provincial  vanity,  while  these  criticisms,  temperate 
as  they  were,  were  falling  from  M.  Auger's  lips  ?  I  was 
as  red  as  a  peony,  and  kept  my  eyes  glued  on  my  book  so 
as  not  to  encounter  the,  as  I  supposed,  ironical  glances  of 
my  schoolmates. 

"  As  for  the  style  — 

Here  I  breathed  again.  Having  in  that  brief  moment 
drained  the  cup  of  bitterness,  I  began  to  indulge  the  hope 
that  there  was  something  in  the  way  of  consolation  await- 
ing me.  And  it  was  my  style  for  which  I  had  been  most 
admired  at  Chatillon ! 

"As  for  the  style,"  continued  M.  Auger,  "it  is  at  all 
times  ordinary,  and  often  incorrect.  I  have  noted  twenty 
instances  —  I  will  mention  a  few.  There,  for  example,  in 
the  very  first  sentence;  the  idea  took  me.  The  idea  occurred 
to  me  is  what  you  should  say  ;  the  former  locution,  although 
tolerated  in  colloquial  conversation,  is  inadmissible  in  fin- 
ished discourse.  Elsewhere  I  find  brilliant  lustre,  which  is 
an  evident  pleonasm.  Farther  on  I  perceive  to  advance 
forward.  It  would  be  difficult  to  advance  backward. 
These  are  venial  errors,  doubtless,  but  they  produce  a  dis- 


74  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

agreeable  impression,  especially  when  they  are  so  numer- 
ous. Elsewhere  Alcuin  assures  Charlemagne  that  the  pro- 
jected reform  will  be  the  'brightest  jewel  of  his  crown.' 
Why  not  the  brightest  sword  of  his  life  ?  (Laughter.) 
Such  forms  of  speech  are  pretentious,  vulgar,  and  in  bad 
taste,  as  are  all  metaphors  that  do  not  rest  on  truth  and 
nature.  M.  Besnard  has  never  seen  them  in  Pascal,  or 
Moliere  or  Racine.  He  will  do  well  to  leave  them  where 
he  found  them,  and  confine  himself  to  the  forms  of  language 
consecrated  by  our  great  writers." 

That  was  all.     M.  Auger  took  up  the  next  exercise. 

As  for  me,  I  was  annihilated,  and  it  was  more  than  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  I  dared  to  raise  my  eyes  to  the 
class. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

'ANAFKH. 

IF  I  had  had  a  little  less  vanity  and  a  little  more  common 
sense,  I  should  have  seen  at  once  that  M.  Auger's  criti- 
cisms were  perfectly  reasonable  and  just;  I  should  have 
told  myself  that  it  was  his  duty  as  a  professor  to  impart 
them  to  me,  and  mine  as  a  student  to  listen  to  them,  and 
that,  instead  of  resenting  his  salutary  advice,  I  ought  to  be 
glad  to  profit  by  it. 

Unfortunately  for  myself,  it  was  vanity  that  got  the 
upper  hand  in  the  conflict,  and  I  foolishly  decided  that  it 
was  incumbent  on  my  dignity  to  be  very  angry. 

Right  or  wrong,  I  thought  I  had  discerned  in  the  mas- 
ter's kindly  meant  remarks  an  intent  to  ridicule  my  provin- 
cial education.  It  seemed  to  me  that  all  Chatillon,  and 
the  department  in  which  I  had  first  seen  the  light,  besides, 
had  been  insulted  and  derided  in  my  person.  I  swore 
eternal  hatred  to  my  comrades  for  having  laughed,  forget- 
ting that  twenty  times  at  least  I  had  committed  the  self- 
same crime  when  it  was  another  who  occupied  the  stool  of 
repentance.  I  did  not  stop  to  reflect  that  their  merriment 
had  had  no  bitterness  in  it,  and  that  five  minutes  after  the 
occurrence  no  one  appeared  to  know  what  it  was  all  about. 

But  /  knew,  and  when  the  class  was  dismissed  I  could 
cheerfully  have  picked  a  quarrel  with  every  member 
of  it. 


76  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

I  could  not  disregard  the  evidence  of  my  senses,  how- 
ever; I  was  forced  to  admit  that  no  one  paid  the  least 
attention  to  my  threatening  looks,  and  that  the  terrestrial 
globe  had  not  ceased  to  revolve  on  its  axis  because  my  great 
effort  had  turned  out  a  miserable  failure. 

But  this  public  defeat,  nevertheless,  had  a  deplorable 
effect  upon  my  disposition. 

I  began  with  a  mental  vow  never  again  to  write  lege 
quceso  at  the  head  of  my  exercises.  In  that  way,  I  said  to 
myself,  I  shall  no  longer  expose  myself  to  the  risk  of  see- 
ing my  literary  defects  and  my  Chatillonian  style  turned 
into  ridicule. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  certainty  that  my  themes  would 
not  be  read  presently  induced  in  me  a  pernicious  habit  of 
slovenly  and  careless  composition,  as  is  apt  to  be  the  case 
when  our  duties  are  ungrateful. 

No  one  can  feel  satisfied  with  himself  who  sits  down  and 
in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  dashes  off,  haphazard,  a  string  of 
empty  phrases,  without  rhyme  or  reason.  That  was  the 
case  with  me ;  I  was  not  happy,  and  my  standing  in  com- 
position was  not  calculated  to  restore  my  cheerfulness. 
Twelfth,  fifteenth,  eighteenth,  such  was  now  my  usual 
number  in  the  class. 

A  singular  process  was  going  on  within  my  brain.  I 
finally  convinced  myself  that  I  had  an  unconquerable 
prejudice  to  contend  with,  and  that  the  Parisian  professors 
made  it  their  business  to  impede  the  progress  of  scholars 
from  the  provinces. 

"  What  use  is  there  in  working  ? "  I  said  to  myself. 
"  Do  what  I  may,  I  shall  always  be  classed  after  those  who 
have  pursued  their  studies  at  Paris,  and  have  acquired 
there  that  indefinable  something  without  which  success  is 
impossible  " — 


'ANAFKH.  77 

The  reasoning  of  a  child  !  It  would  have  been  such  a 
simple  matter  to  set  to  work  and  ascertain  just  what  was 
that  undefinable  something  whose  existence  was  revealed 
to  me  by  a  sort  of  instinct  !  But  my  preconceived  notion 
was  there  and  not  to  be  got  rid  of  ;  it  continued  to  weigh 
me  down  like  a  veritable  rock  of  Sisyphus. 

I  became  morose,  melancholy,  almost  peevish.  Mamma 
and  Aunt  Aubert,  of  course,  noticed  the  change  and 
inquired  the  reason  of  it.  Foolishly  again,  I  made  a 
mystery  of  the  matter  to  them  ;  I  found  it  simpler  to 
deny  my  melancholy  than  to  explain  it. 

I  was  a  little  more  candid  with  Molecule,  who  ques- 
tioned me  discreetly  on  the  same  subject.  Without  con- 
fessing the  real  source  of  my  woes  (perhaps  I  might  not 
have  been  able  to  tell  exactly  what  it  was  myself),  I  hinted 
obscurely  at  their  magnitude.  I  was,  I  informed  him, 
"  one  of  those  unfortunate  and  accursed  beings  who  are 
born  with  the  brand  of  despair  marked  on  their  brow,  and 
are  doomed  forever  to  drag  after  them  the  ball  and  chain 
of  a  hateful  existence." 

Those  are  the  very  expressions  I  made  use  of  as  I  strode 
with  great  strides  up  and  down  the  courtyard  at  his  side, 
on  a  gloomy  afternoon  in  autumn.  In  confirmation  of  my 
words  I  revealed  to  him  that  I  had  adopted  as  my  motto 
the  Greek  word  'Avayxri  (fatality),  and  proposed,  as  soon 
as  the  condition  of  my  finances  warranted  such  oriental 
luxury,  to  have  the  legend  engraved  on  a  seal  of  steel,  the 
handle  to  be  a  death's  head  carved  in  silver. 

Molecule  was  of  all  the  world  the  one  best  calculated 
to  comprehend  me.  He  stopped  in  front  of  me  and  eyed 
me  in  silence  for  a  moment. 

"  Friend,  I  know  your  complaint  —  I  have  suffered  from 
it,"  he  said.  "  It  is  the  melancholy  of  poets.  Their  only 


78  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

remedy  for  it  lies  in  expectorating  the  scorn  and  disgust 
inspired  in  them  by  a  coarse  and  vulgar  world.  Write 
verse  ;  believe  me,  it  is  the  only  cure  for  you  !  " 

Write  verse !  Of  a  truth,  all  my  surroundings  seemed 
to  be  in  a  conspiracy  to  drive  me  to  that  extremity.  From 
M.  Valadier,  who  never  came  up  to  the  dormitory  without 
having  laboriously  fabricated  two  or  three  dozen  Alex- 
andrines, to  Molecule,  who  rhymed  on  everything  and 
apropos  of  nothing,  without  mentioning  Segol  and  the 
other  adherents  of  the  Latin  muse,  all  spoke  to  me  of 
poetry.  Was  it  possible  that  my  friend  was  right  and 
that  I,  too,  was  about  to  be  visited  by  the  divine  afflatus  ? 

At  all  hazards  it  behooved  me  to  make  the  attempt. 

I  had  scarce  more  than  regained  my  room  than  I  set  to 
work.  With  the  assistance  of  the  dictionary  of  rhymes 
owned  by  M.  Valadier,  who  was  so  kind  as  to  dispense 
with  it  for  an  hour  or  two  while  he  was  filling  up  our 
weekly  reports,  I  had  soon  concocted  an  elegy  that  exhaled 
the  most  funereal  gloom.  The  title  and  initial  lines  will 
speak  for  it  sufficiently.  It  was  styled  : 

MALEDICTION  ! !! 
and  commenced  in  this  way  : 

Ah !    curst  be  the  day  when  on  thy  bitter  shore, 
O   Life,  I  was  upheaved  by  the  wave  of   destiny! 
Curst  be  — 

There  was  a  long  string  of  violent  imprecations,  but  of 
which  it  may  be  said  that  they  were  generally  determined 
by  the  rhyme. 

When  I  had  put  the  finishing  touches  to  this  vengeful 
production,  I  made  haste  to  copy  it  out  on  a  clean  sheet  of 
glazed  paper,  and,  after  affixing  my  signature  and  adding 


'ANAFKH.  79 

a  flourish  that  resembled  a  crazy  sky-rocket,  I  transmitted 
it  to  Molecule  with  a  request  for  his  opinion. 

My  emotion  was  almost  insupportable  while  this  eminent 
authority  was  acquainting  himself  with  the  contents  of  my 
missive.  What  would  come  of  it  ?  And  what  would  be 
his  verdict  on  my  poetical  abilities  ? 

It  surpassed  my  fondest  hopes.  Whether  Molecule  had 
learned  by  experience  how  indispensable  is  the  bread  of 
applause  in  the  mouth  of  the  poet,  or  whether  he  was 
sincere  in  his  admiration,  the  note  he  sent  me  contained 
this  one  word  : 

"Sublime!" 

and  he  had  no  more  than  clapped  eyes  on  me  in  the  play- 
ground than  he  hastened  to  assure  me  that  I  was  destined 
to  be  "  the  greatest  poet  of  my  time." 

The  expression  struck  me  as  rather  emphatic,  and  I 
replied  by  disclaiming,  rather  feebly,  any  such  aspirations 
on  my  part.  But  Molecule  would  not  listen  to  me.  I 
had  the  sacred  fire,  he  declared,  and  that  was  the  great 
point.  My  elegy  was  instinct,  from  beginning  to  end,  with 
the  fiercest  indignation,  and  he  doubted  sincerely  if  the 
most  illustrious  of  our  poets  had  achieved  anything  supe- 
rior, as  a  commencement. 

Human  vanity  is  boundless.  Turgid  and  ridiculous  as 
were  these  encomiums,  they  went  straight  to  my  heart. 
I  looked  on  myself,  in  all  honesty  and  good  faith,  as  a 
genius  of  the  first  rank,  and  gave  no  thought  to  the 
matter  when  poor  Molecule,  impatient  to  reimburse  him- 
self for  his  outlay  of  admiration,  immediately  availed 
himself  of  the  opportunity  to  communicate  to  me  the 
seventh  canto  of  his  epic.  His  Alexandrines,  unfortu- 
nately, were  already  beginning  to  appear  feeble  alongside 


80  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

mine,  or,  rather,  I  had  ears  only  for  my  own  music.  He 
must  certainly  have  thought  me  cold. 

From  that  day  all  my  dreams  were  of  poetry.  Male- 
diction was  succeeded  by  a  satire  aimed  at  a  certain  pedant 
whose  crime  was  that  he  had  not  appreciated  my  literary 
talents  at  their  just  value,  and  whom,  on  that  account,  I 
devoted  to  the  execration  of  posterity.  I  pictured  to 
myself  the  derisive  laughter  of  our  remote  descendants 
on  learning  how  he  had  failed  to  recognize  the  great  poet 
there  was  in  Albert  Besnard. 

I  was  certainly  far  from  imagining  that  these  crude 
attempts  of  mine  had  absolutely  nothing  in  common  with 
genuine  poetry  except  the  more  or  less  orthodox  number 
of  feet  of  which  my  lines  consisted,  and  the  tawdry, 
commonplace  rhymes  in  which  I  dressed  them.  I 
believed  in  perfect  good  faith  that  poetry  consists 
simply  in  the  observance  of  certain  mechanical  rules  and 
in  monotonous  assonances.  Had  any  one  attempted  to 
tell  me  that  it  cannot  exist  without  a  profound  knowledge 
of  the  language,  reinforced  by  special  genius  and  familiarity 
with  the  noblest  models,  I  should  have  listened  to  him  in 
utter  stupefaction.  We  should  laugh  at  a  man  who, 
knowing  nothing  of  music,  should  attempt  to  compose  an 
opera.  Judge  how  much  more  difficult  it  is  to  detect  and 
voice  that  secret  harmony  of  words  and  thoughts  whose 
very  existence  is  unsuspected  by  the  vulgar ! 

Be  that  as  it  may,  I  considered  myself  a  poet,  which 
possibly  answered  quite  as  well  as  if  I  were  one,  and 
gradually  came  to  devote  all  my  time  to  versifying. 
French  composition,  languages,  dead  and  living,  history, 
geography,  all  were  henceforth  neglected  for  my  new 
passion.  It  was  as  much  as  ever  that  my  mathematical 
studies  retained  a  place  in  my  life,  obliged  as  I  was  to  give 


"THE  FIRST  DAY  i  STROLLED  UP  THE  CHAMPS  ELYSEES 

IN    ALL    THE    GLORY    OF    MY    NEW    CLOTHES." 


'ANAFKH.  83 

them  a  semblance  of  attention  by  my  private  lessons 
with  M.  Desbans.  But  as  regarded  all  other  matters,  I 
was  as  much  a  stranger  to  the  school  as  if  M.  Auger,  M. 
Aveline,  and  our  other  masters  had  been  so  many  Chinese 
professors,  teaching,  in  a  language  unfamiliar  to  my  ears, 
things  that  only  the  Celestials  require  to  know. 

The  comparative  independence  enjoyed  by  the  individual 
in  a  Parisian  lycee,  owing  to  the  great  number  of  pupils, 
was  of  assistance  to  me  in  this  neglect  of  all  my  duties, 
and  I  abused  it  shamelessly.  It  was  strange,  but  it  never 
occurred  to  me  that  I  was  wronging  both  my  father  and 
myself  by  devoting  the  time  at  college  which  should  have 
been  given  to  my  regular  studies  to  other  matters.  And 
yet  I  should  have  known  that  my  family  did  not  subject 
themselves  to  the  heavy  expense  of  maintaining  me  at  the 
lycee  to  have  me  lead  an  idle  and  useless  life  there.  I 
should  have  seen  how  foolish  it  was  to  attend  day  after 
day  courses  in  literature  and  history  without  doing  my 
best  to  profit  by  them,  and  my  common  sense  should  have 
told  me  that  among  the  cares  and  toils  of  after  life  the 
golden  opportunity  which  I  was  so  senselessly  letting  slip 
from  me  would  never  recur  again.  But  no  such  reflections 
occurred  to  me.  I  believed  I  was  a  poet,  and  that  was 
sufficient  to  close  my  eyes  to  the  most  elementary 
truths. 

Another  cause  contributed  to  make  me  view  with 
increasing  indifference  everything  connected  with  the 
routine  of  the  school,  and  that  was  my  intimacy  with 
Lecachey.  I  was  in  the  habit  of  meeting  him  elsewhere 
than  at  the  fencing  school.  The  community  of  interests 
between  his  father  and  mine  had  been  the  means  of  broad- 
ening our  relations.  I  had  been  invited  to  his  house  ;  in 
his  company  I  had  been  favoured  with  an  occasional 


84  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

glimpse  of  the  elegances  and  luxuries  of  Parisian  existence, 
and  I  had  been  a  little  dazzled.  If  Molecule  had  exerted 
an  influence  as  deplorable  as  it  was  decisive  on  my  intel- 
lectual evolution,  Lecachey  was  responsible  for  a  change 
no  less  marked  in  my  external  appearance. 

Two  ambitions  now  occupied  my  bosom,  —  to  be  at  the 
same  time  a  poet  and  a  well-dressed  man,  and  no  one  so 
completely  realized  my  idea  of  what  a  well-dressed  man 
should  be  as  did  Lecachey.  The  tranquil  indifference 
with  which  he  shook  off  the  cares  and  annoyances  inci- 
dental to  his  scholastic  life,  as  a  duck  sheds  water  from  its 
glossy  back,  constituted  a  charm  the  more.  Seeing  him 
sink  the  lycee  so  readily  the  moment  he  closed  the  door 
behind  him,  and  followed  the  recitations  en  amateur  with- 
out the  ghost  of  a  text -book  before  him,  nonchalantly 
returning  irrelevant  answers  to  the  questions  which  the 
professor  occasionally  propounded  to  him,  I  naturally 
arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  he  was  the  very  embodiment 
of  correct  form. 

This  dandyism  was  carried  to  great  lengths,  for  it  ex- 
tended even  to  contempt  for  the  French  language  and  the 
rules  of  orthography. 

"  Monsieur  Lecachey,"  Professor  Auger  said  one  day  to 
my  brilliant  comrade,  "  it  is  not  necessary  to  say  in  this 
here  moment,  but  in  this  present  moment  ;  one  does  not 
enjoy  a  bad  reputation,  he  simply  has  it  ;  when  you  desire 
to  say,  he  hurled  his  javelin,  please  write  the  word  jeta 
with  one  t,  not  two.  How  happens  it  that  you  are  in  the 
rhetoric  class  and  make  such  frightful  blunders  ? " 

At  such  moments  I  must  admit  that  I  did  not  admire 
my  elegant  friend.  But  maybe  I  did  not  make  up  for  it 
on  .Sunday  !  I  copied  his  trousers,  his  cravats.  He  had 
given  me  the  address  of  his  tailor,  and  my  father  had 


'ANAFKH.  85 

allowed  me  to  order  a  civilian  suit,  which  I  would  put  on 
as  soon  as  I  reached  home  from  the  lycee. 

The  Arc  de  Triomphe  was  scarcely  high  enough  to  let 
me  pass  under  the  first  day  I  walked  up  the  Champs 
Elysees  in  the  glory  of  my  new  clothes. 


OF  THE 

(tJNIVE-RSI-TY 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    VENGEANCE    OF    VERSCHUREN. 

r  I  ""HERE  existed  in  Division  No.  i  a  habit  which  had 
-A-  to  some  extent  acquired  the  authority  of  law  —  the 
habit  of  shaving  every  Saturday  preparatory  to  the  weekly 
holiday.  For  this  purpose  a  barber  of  the  neighbourhood 
was  allowed  to  set  up  a  temporary  shop  in  one  of  the 
class-rooms  during  the  noonday  recess,  and  all  those  who 
rejoiced  in  a  semblance  of  whiskers  were  at  liberty  to 
resort  thither  and  have  their  chin  scraped. 

More  than  one  rhetorician  whose  hirsute  appendages 
existed  as  yet  only  in  prospective  none  the  less  considered 
it  necessary  to  undergo  the  operation,  under  the  fallacious 
pretence  that  it  would  accelerate  the  growth. 

Of  this  number  was  Verschuren,  whose  eyes  had  never 
thus  far  been  gladdened  with  the  slightest  vestige  of  a 
beard,  but  who,  nevertheless,  regularly  every  Saturday 
submitted  his  chops  to  the  secular  arm  of  our  barber,  M. 
Canonge. 

This  person,  like  a  well-bred  man  acquainted  with  his 
business,  never  opposed  the  least  objection.  He  even 
carried  his  Machiavellism  so  far  as  always  to  employ  a 
thin,  wiry  razor  that  "  scraped  "  as  it  ran  over  the  smooth- 
est chin,  producing  the  impression  that  it  was  reaping  a 
veritable  forest  of  hair. 

And  the  music  rejoiced  Verschuren  exceedingly. 


THE    VENGEANCE   OF   VERSCHUREN.  8/ 

"It  is  astonishing  how  harsh  my  beard  is  getting,"  he 
would  say.  "  Do  you  hear  how  the  razor  screams  ?  " 

"  Yes,  with  agony,"  Thomereau  replied. 

Now  and  then  M.  Canonge  would  inflict  a  trifling  wound 
on  Verschuren's  epidermis.  You  should  see  the  delight 
with  which  the  poor  fellow  would  apply  a  little  square  of 
black  court  -  plaster  to  the  cut.  And  all  day  long,  you 
might  hear  dialogues  like  this  : 

"  Hello  !  "  some  one  would  say,  "what 's  that  Verschu- 
ren  has  on  his  cheek  ?  " 

"Oh,  it's  nothing  —  only  a  cut  that  awkward  fellow 
Canonge  gave  me." 

And  we  would  turn  our  heads,  and  enjoy  a  quiet  laugh. 
But  he  was  destined  to  furnish  us  with  more  ample  food 
for  mirth. 

There  seemed  to  be  times  when  he  was  not  quite  cer: 
tain  as  to  the  reality  of  his  famous  beard  ;  at  all  events,  it 
was  noticed  that  for  some  time  past  he  had  been  making 
more  frequent  visits  to  his  desk  than  was  at  all  necessary. 
His  face  would  be  lost  to  sight  for  a  moment,  behind  the 
protecting  lid,  to  reappear  presently,  besmeared,  as  to  the 
upper  lip,  with  a  colourless  liquid  resembling  alcohol  or 
water.  Then,  taking  from  his  pocket  one  of  those  horrid 
little  round  mirrors  set  in  pewter,  that  are  sold  in  the 
three  sous  shops,  he  would  proceed  to  make  a  minute 
examination  of  his  features. 

It  puzzled  us  to  know  what  to  make  of  these  manoeu- 
vres. We  scented  a  mystery.  In  Verschuren's  absence 
one  day,  Thomereau  took  it  upon  himself  to  institute 
a  perquisition  in  the  mysterious  desk,  and  soon  the  corpus 
delicti  was  being  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  among  the 
members  of  the  class. 

It  was  a  bottle  of  Capilline,  a  preparation  that  was  rep- 


88  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

resented,  on  the  label,  to  be  a  sovereign  specific  against 
baldness.  Verschuren  had  evidently  made  use  of  it,  in  the 
hope  of  hastening  the  growth  of  his  mustache. 

"Not  a  word  of  my  discovery,  if  you  wish  to  enjoy 
a  good  laugh !  "  Thomereau  enjoined  on  us. 

The  bottle,  having  completed  the  circuit  of  the  class, 
was  restored  to  its  place  in  the  desk.  Verschuren  re- 
turned, and  suspected  nothing. 

It  was  all  in  vain,  that,  when  recess  came,  we  tried  to 
make  Thomereau  give  us  an  inkling  of  his  project ;  not  a 
word  could  be  extracted  from  him.  It  is  my  belief  that 
there  was  more  than  one  of  us  who  did  not  regard  Ver- 
schuren's  idea  as  such  a  bad  one,  and  had  secretly  resolved 
to  give  Capilline  a  trial.  After  all,  if  the  lotion  restored 
the  hair,  why  should  it  not  be  good  for  mustaches  ?  was 
a  question  that  was  generally  asked. 

An  argument  that  would  have  carried  more  conyiction 
with  it,  if  it  had  not  rested  on  a  false  premise,  to  wit :  that 
Capilline r,  and  all  the  other  wonderful  preparations  that 
are  advertised  so  freely  on  the  fourth  page  of  the  news- 
papers, so  far  from  making  the  hair  grow,  have  absolutely 
no  other  merit  than  that  of  transferring  the  coppers  from 
the  pockets  of  the  ignorant  and  foolish  to  those  of  the 
inventor. 

However,  the  excitement  caused  by  the  incident  had 
subsided,  and  for  some  days  past  there  had  been  no  fur- 
ther talk  of  Capilline,  when,  on  entering  the  refectory  one 
morning,  we  were  astounded  to  see  Verschuren's  lip 
adorned  with  a  splendid  pair  of  mustaches. 

Miracle  of  miracles !   Had  Capilline  done  its  work  ? 

Alas  !  those  mustaches  were  but  a  delusion  and  a  snare  ; 
they  were  simply  painted  on  the  lip  of  the  unhappy  youth, 
after  the  fashion  of  those  facial  ornaments  that  street 


THE    VENGEANCE   OF   VERSCHUREN.  89 

urchins  bestow  on  themselves  at  carnival  time,  with  the 
assistance  of  burnt  cork.  I  felt  certain  that  it  was  one  of 
Thomereau's  practical  jokes,  and  I  am  forced  to  admit 
that  it  struck  me  as  very  funny,  although  entirely  inex- 
cusable. 

"It  is  idiotic !  "  I  said  to  myself,  laughing  in  company 
with  the  rest.  "  It  will  get  Verschuren  in  trouble,  sure. 
Wipe  your  lip,"  I  murmured  in  his  ear,  as  I  passed  his 
seat. 

Verschuren,  who  had  doubtless  made  an  application  of 
lotion  before  coming  down  to  breakfast,  blushed,  and 
rubbed  his  lip  with  his  handkerchief,  but  without  produc- 
ing any  effect.  The  colouring  was  already  dry,  and  ap- 
peared to  have  become  set. 

Surprised  to  see  everybody  looking  at  him  and  laugh- 
ing, he  took  his  mirror  from  his  pocket,  and  proceeded  to 
make  a  survey  of  himself.  He  was  even  more  astounded 
than  the  rest  of  us. 

"What  is  this  ?"  he  said,  flushing  crimson. 

He  moistened  his  napkin,  and  scoured  away  furiously 
at  the  unwelcome  ornaments.  It  availed  nothing;  the 
colour  seemed  to  have  struck  in  and  filled  the  pores  of 
the  skin. 

Fortunately,  his  back  was  to  the  central  alley,  which 
separated  the  two  rows  of  tables  of  the  refectory,  and  the 
ushers  who,  as  was  their  custom,  were  patrolling  it,  saw 
nothing  of  what  was  going  on. 

Verschuren  was  furious.  He  was  too  engrossed  in  his 
occupation  of  scouring  his  face  with  his  napkin,  to  think 
of  touching  his  breakfast. 

Perceiving,  at  last,  the  futility  of  his  efforts,  he  had 
resource  to  the  expedient  of  covering  his  mouth  with  his 
handkerchief,  as  if  he  were  bleeding  at  the  nose,  and  mak- 


go  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

ing  a  bolt  for  the  courtyard.  There  we  found  him,  his 
head  under  the  pump,  drenching  himself  with  the  ice-cold 
water,  and  fairly  smoking  with  rage  in  the  midst  of  all 
this  deluge. 

But  the  fatal  mustaches  were  more  intensely  black  than 
ever.  They  seemed  to  shine  again  under  the  vigorous 
friction  of  Verschuren's  handkerchief.  The  best  of  the 
joke  was  that  the  victim,  convinced  that  it  was  all  owing 
to  the  potent  influence  of  Capilline,  did  not  dare  complain. 

We  stood  around  him  with  an  appearance  of  deep 
interest,  making  more  or  less  generous  remarks  on  his 
misfortune. 

"  He  has  cholera  !  — " 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  catching  ?  " 

"  The  black  seems  to  be  spreading  toward  the  ears  —  " 

"  The  best  thing  he  can  do,  is  to  go  to  the  infirmary —  " 

"  Oh,  I  do  hope  he  will  get  over  it !  " 

"  Pooh  !  there  is  no  danger,  only,  when  a  fellow  has 
spots  on  the  skin  like  those,  there  's  no  use  trying  to  get 
rid  of  them." 

Every  one  had  his  say.  Thomereau  alone  kept  himself 
in  the  background.  As  for  Verschuren,  he  was  pale  with 
anger,  and  it  would  have  been  an  immense  satisfaction  to 
him  to  thrash  somebody  ;  but  whom  could  he  tackle  ?  He 
was  so  miserable  that  I  took  pity  on  him. 

"  It  must  have  been  that  somebody  put  ink  in  the  lo- 
tion," I  whispered  to  him. 

He  saw  by  my  air  that  I  was  not  making  sport  of  him. 

"  The  lotion  ?  —  then  they  know  ?  — 

"  The  whole  class  saw  your  bottle  a  week  ago.  It  is 
Punch's  secret  now." 

"Ah!"  he  ejaculated,  very  shamefacedly.  "But  it 
certainly  is  not  ink,"  he  continued,  with  a  longer  face  than 


THE    VENGEANCE   OF   VERSCHUREN.  91 

ever.     "  If  it  were  I  should  have  noticed  the  difference, 
and  there  was  no  change  in  the  colour  of  the  lotion." 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  "  I  said  to  myself,  "  this  begins  to  look  seri- 
ous. Can  it  be  possible  that  Thomereau,  the  senseless 
idiot,  has  had  recourse  to  some  dangerous  acid,  perhaps  a 
poison.  See  here,"  I  continued,  in  an  undertone,  "  promise 
me  you  won't  be  angry  with  the  author  of  this  piece  of 
mischief,  and  I  will  help  you  to  discover  him." 

"  Not  be  angry  ?  Ah  !  depend  on  it,  he  shall  dance  to 
music  of  my  making  if  ever  I  lay  hands  on  him.  That 
miserable  Thomereau  was  the  man,  I  would  n't  be  afraid 
to  swear  to  it !  I  see  him  skulking  yonder  in  the  distance, 
afraid  to  come  near  — 

"  Very  well,  do  as  you  please.  Only  I  shall  have  noth- 
ing further  to  do  with  the  affair." 

The  menace  had  its  effect. 

"  But  you  don't  mean  that  I  am  not  to  pull  the  rascal's 
ears  if  it  is  he  who  has  been  amusing  himself  at  my 
expense  ? " 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  mean.  I  do  not  say  it  to 
offend  you,  but,  after  all,  the  joke  was  not  a  bad  one,  and 
our  comrade  will  be  amply  punished  if  we  retaliate  on  him 
in  kind.  Give  me  your  word  not  to  make  a  mountain  out 
of  a  mole-hill  and  I  will  promise  you  my  assistance  to  be 
revenged." 

"  Very  well !  you  have  my  word,"  Verschuren  finally 
said. 

"Then  wait  here  for  me." 

I  ran  across  the  courtyard  to  Thomereau. 

"  Quick,  not  a  moment's  hesitation,  or  Verschuren  will 
murder  you  !  What  did  you  put  in  his  bottle  ? " 

Thomereau  was  inclined  to  stand  on  his  dignity  and 
repudiate  the  insinuation. 


92  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  You  will  do  best  to  tell  me  the  truth  ;  unless  you  do 
Verschuren  will  take  charge  of  the  negotiations,  and  I 
assure  you  he  won't  stand  on  ceremony." 

"  Man  Dieu,  be  easy,  can't  you  ?  There  's  no  necessity 
for  making  such  a  fuss.  This  is  how  it  was.  I  simply 
dissolved  a  little  nitrate  of  silver  in  the  contents  of  the 
bottle.  The  colour  of  the  liquid  remained  unchanged  in  the 
darkness  of  the  desk  and  only  turned  black  upon  exposure 
to  the  light.  I  have  a  cousin  who  is  acquainted  with  a 
photographer ;  he  explained  the  matter  to  me  —  " 

"  It  is  well ;  not  another  word." 

I  hurried  off  to  Payan,  a  Taupin  with  some  knowledge 
of  chemistry. 

He  held  the  position  of  assistant  demonstrator,  and  in 
that  capacity  carried  a  key  of  the  laboratory,  with  liberty 
of  access  at  all  times.  I  explained  the  matter  to  him.  He 
laughed. 

"A  solution  of  hyposulphite  of  soda  will  remove  the 
stain,"  he  said. 

And  he  obligingly  went  and  procured  for  me  a  small 
phial  of  the  remedy. 

A  few  moments  later  Verschuren  was  relieved  of  his 
mustachios,  and  also,  I  think,  of  his  faith  in  Capilline. 

He  kept  his  word  and  did  not  speak  a  word  to  Tho- 
mereau  of  what  had  happened.  But  our  poor  devil  of  a 
punster  had  a  presentiment  that  matters  were  not  going  to 
end  thus,  and  nothing  could  be  more  comical  than  his 
looks  of  apprehension  as  often  as  he  found  himself  in  Ver- 
schuren's  neighbourhood.  The  circumambient  atmosphere 
seemed  to  him  charged  with  kicks  and  cuffs.  His  gayety 
had  departed ;  he  reissued  none  of  his  ancient  puns,  and 
still  less  did  he  think  of  putting  new  ones  in  circulation. 
However,  after  three  or  four  days  of  mental  torture,  see- 


THE    VENGEANCE    OF   VERSCHUREN.  93 

ing  no  signs  of  danger  on  the  horizon,  he  began  to  pluck 
up  courage  a  little. 

How  little  did  he  suspect  that  even  then  the  hour  of 
vengeance  was  about  to  strike ! 

It  struck  in  the  dormitory  one  night,  about  twelve 
o'clock.  I  had  been  sleeping  soundly  for  two  hours  when 
I  was  awakened  by  a  touch  on  the  shoulder.  By  the  feeble 
light  of  the  night-lamp  I  recognized  Verschuren  bending 
over  me. 

"  I  have  my  lad,"  he  said  to  me,  in  a  low  voice.  "  Just 
listen." 

I  sat  up  and  lent  my  ear.  Silence  reigned  throughout 
the  room,  unbroken  save  for  a  snore,  resonant,  regular, 
profound  as  the  growl  of  one  of  the  big  pipes  of  a  church 
organ. 

"  It  is  Thomereau  who  is  snoring,"  Verschuren  con- 
tinued, "  and  to  snore  in  the  dormitory  is  a  misdemeanor  !  " 

We  smothered  our  laughter  as  well  as  we  could. 

Two  minutes  later  Dutheil,  Chavasse,  Molecule  and 
Payan,  aroused  to  serve  as  witnesses,  were  standing  with 
us  at  Thomereau' s  bedside. 

With  mouth  agape  and  distended  nostrils  the  poor 
wretch  was  snoring  away,  unconscious  of  impending  evil. 
A  resounding  slap  awoke  him  with  a  start. 

"  Brother,  no  one  may  snore  in  the  dormitory !  Ten 
centimes  fine !  "  said  Verschuren,  in  an  imposing  tone. 

"  No  one  may  snore  in  the  dormitory !  Ten  centimes 
fine ! "  the  rest  of  us  chorused,  in  sepulchral  accents. 

Thomereau  looked  at  us  with  awe  and  wonder.  But 
presently,  taking  in  the  situation  : 

"  I  suppose  you  consider  it  funny  to  wake  me  up  in  this 
way!  Mon  Dieu  !  you  shall  have  your  ten  centimes,"  he 
grunted,  and  turned  his  back  on  us. 


94  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

We  had  at  last  found  the  defect  in  his  armour  ! 

After  that  evening  the  unhappy  youth  never  ventured 
to  close  his  eyes  until  every  one  was  asleep,  and  for  a 
week  or  two  he  abstained  religiously  from  practical  jokes. 

"  And  yet,"  he  said,  every  time  that  he  was  obliged  to 
part  with  his  two  sous,  "  where  should  a  fellow  snore  if 
not  in  the  dormitory?  I  think  that  article  should  be 
expunged  from  the  regulations." 


"'BROTHER,  NO  ONE  MAY  SNORE  IN  THE  DORMITORY.' 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL  OF  MOLIERE. 

IT  was  Sunday.  I  had  spent  my  afternoon  driving  with 
Lecachey  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne  and  had  come  in  a 
few  minutes  late  for  dinner.  My  father  always  insisted 
on  rigid  punctuality  in  such  matters ;  I  found  the  entire 
family  gathered  in  the  drawing-room  awaiting  me. 

As  I  was  making  my  excuses  while  taking  my  place  at 
table,  I  was  struck  by  the  expression  of  sadness  that  was 
visible  on  every  face.  My  mother  contemplated  me  with 
a  sort  of  pained  compassion.  Grandpa  seemed  lost  in  his 
reflections,  and  shook  his  head  occasionally  while  talking  to 
himself.  My  father  swallowed  his  soup  without  raising  his 
eyes  from  the  plate.  And  as  for  Aunt  Aubert,  there  was 
no  mistake  about  it,  two  big  tears  hung  ready  to  drop  from 
her  eyelashes. 

I  was  asking  myself  what  might  be  the  meaning  of  these 
diverse  manifestations  of  a  common  sentiment,  when  my 
father  undertook  to  afford  me  an  explanation. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  he  suddenly  spoke  up,  "why  did  you 
not  tell  us  that  you  were  not  happy  at  the  Lyce*e  Mon- 
taigne ?  You  surely  know  that  you  have  no  better  friends 
than  your  parents,  and  that  it  is  your  duty  not  to  withhold 
from  them  your  cares  and  sorrows  — 

Here  mamma  and  Aunt  Aubert  burst  out  in  sobs,  and 
the  aspect  of  the  table  became  more  than  ever  like  a 
funeral  banquet. 


98  SCHOOLS O  Y  DA  YS  IN  FRANCE. 

"If  you  have  any  reasonable  objection  to  the  studies 
you  are  pursuing,"  my  father  went  on,  "you  should 
confide  it  to  us.  We  have  no  object  save  your  hap- 
piness —  " 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,  your  happiness,"  Aunt  Aubert  vehe- 
mently interrupted,  rising  and  moving  rapidly  around  the 
table  to  cast  her  arms  about  my  neck.  "  Poor  darling ! 
You  are  persecuted,  are  n't  you  ?  They  make  your  life 
miserable  and  you  never  say  a  word  !  " 

I  was  literally  dumfounded  by  this  scene,  and  utterly 
unable  to  account  for  it  on  any  reasonable  hypothesis. 
Sunday  was  not  usually  one  of  my  "  blue  "  days,  and  these 
unforeseen  condolences  were  entirely  at  variance  with  my 
prevailing  mood  on  returning  from  the  Bois.  I  could  do 
nothing,  therefore,  but  mumble  confused  protestations 
and  denials. 

"  Really,  now,  I  can't  imagine  what  has  given  you  such 
ideas  —  Aunt  Aubert,  please,  please  don't  cry  so.  It  is 
.all  a  mistake,  I  assure  you  —  an  inexplicable  misunder- 
standing — 

"  Come,"  said  my  father,  a  little  sharply,  "  what  use  is 
there  in  denying  what  is  true  ?  I  have  been  to  the  lycee 
for  information,  and  I  learned  there  that  your  standing  in 
your  classes  is  poor,  that  you  neglect  your  studies,  and 
that  your  reputation  is  that  of  an  idle,  lazy  scholar.  Now 
I  know  you  well  enough  to  be  certain  that  underlying  all 
this  there  is  some  mysterious  disgust  which  you  are .  con- 
cealing from  us." 

By  this  time  my  face  was  blazing  ;  I  said  not  a  word. 

"  Finally,  if  there  were  any  room  for  doubt  remaining," 
my  father  concluded,  extracting  from  his  pocket  a  crumpled 
sheet  of  paper,  "  this  copy  of  verses,  found  this  morning 
by  Aunt  Aubert  on  the  floor,  where  it  had  dropped  from 


"^n/^Wl/^x. 

A 

(UN  iv!  r) 


^^ 
BEFORE    THE    TRIBUNAL    OF  MOLIERE.  99 

the  pocket  of  your  tunic,  would  suffice  to  enlighten  us  as 
to  your  mental  state.     Malediction  /  /  /  —  that  is  its  title. 

"  «  Ah  !  curst  be  the  day  when  on  thy  bitter  shore, 
O  Life     .     .     .     "' 

"The  poor  child!"  here  cried  Aunt  Aubert,  carried 
away  by  her  indignation.'  "  Seventeen  years  old,  and 
already  cursing  life  !  Why,  they  must  be  vampires,  and 
worse,  those  to  whom  we  entrusted  him  !  " 

At  this  juncture  the  general  emotion  and  the  music  of 
my  own  poetry  acted  on  me  with  such  sudden  intensity 
that  my  feelings  overcame  me,  and  I  mingled  my  tears 
with  Aunt  Aubert's.  Mamma's  and  grandpa's  floodgates 
were  also  opened  ;  the  deluge  was  universal. 

My  father  saw  that  it  was  time  to  try  the  effect  of  a 
diversion. 

"  If  the  verses  only  had  a  little  merit  !  "  he  wearily  said, 
suspending  his  reading  ;  "  but  we  have  not  even  that  poor 
consolation,  alas  !  I  think  that  in  all  my  life  I  never  saw 
such  pitiable  trash  —  " 

I  bounded  like  a  horse  at  the  touch  of  the  spur. 

"  Molecule  thinks  them  good  !  "  I  rejoined. 

"  Molecule  doubtless  has  his  reasons  for  saying  so,  my 
dear  boy,  but  I  am  unable  to  share  his  opinion.  Without 
going  further  than  the  first  line,  for  instance,  can  you  not 
see  the  absurdity  of  applying  the  epithet  bitter  to  a  shore 
of  any  kind,  even  the  metaphorical  shore  of  life  ?  Male- 
diction is  a  rhapsody,  don't  blind  yourself  to  that  fact,  my 
lad.  If  you  propose  to  employ  your  time  at  the  Lycee 
Montaigne  in  composing  verse  of  that  calibre,  my  advice 
to  you  would  be  to  resign  at  once  and  hire  out  as  clerk  in 
a  grocery  shop,  where  you  can  sell  pound  packages  of  the 
sugar  of  my  manufacture." 


100  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE, 

Brief  as  this  little  passage  at  arms  had  been,  it  had  the 
effect  designed  by  my  father,  that  of  diverting  our  ideas 
into  another  channel.  Aunt  Aubert  and  grandpa  attempted 
my  defence,  and,  disenchanted  though  they  were,  tried  to 
make  it  appear  that  my  poetry  was  not  so  black  as  it  was 
painted.  Mamma,  comprehending  how  painful  to  my  self- 
esteem  the  discussion  was,  and  observing  that  I  maintained 
a  sullen  silence,  made  a  signal  to  the  combatants  to  change 
the  subject.  The  inquiry  was  resumed  into  the  motives 

which    had    elicited    from    me    such   dreadful    accents  of 

• 

despair. 

That  gave  me  control  of  the  situation.  With  sulky  per- 
versity I  absolutely  declined  to  make  any  statement.  It 
was  all  in  vain  that  they  tried  to  make  me  say  why  I,  who 
had  always  been  studious  and  obedient  at  Chatillon,  now 
saw  fit  to  take  my  place  among  the  most  irreclaimable 
dunces  at  Montaigne.  I  kept  my  mouth  resolutely  closed. 

In  the  midst  of  these  unpleasantnesses  the  dinner  came 
to  an  end. 

As  soon  as  the  dessert  was  disposed  of,  I  pushed  back 
my  chair  and  rose,  without  saying  a  word. 

"  Where  are  you  going  in  such  a  hurry  ? "  my  father 
asked,  with  a  suggestion  of  malice. 

"  I  am  going  to  put  on  my  uniform  and  return  to  the 
lycee,"  I  replied,  with  a  great  display  of  dignity. 

"  Ta,  ta,  ta  —  what 's  that  you  are  giving  us  ?  And  do 
you  think  it  looks  well  to  leave  us  in  such  a  sulky  frame 
of  mind  ?  In  the  first  place,  your  time  is  not  up  yet,  and 
then  I  had  another  project  for  this  evening,  —  that  you 
and  I  should  pay  a  visit  to  the  Comedie-Franc,aise.  The 
plays  are  the  Misanthrope  and  les  Precieuses  Ridicules.  I 
would  take  you  back  to  the  lycee  in  the  morning  and 
straighten  out  matters  with  the  authorities." 


BEFORE    THE    TRIBUNAL    OF  MO  LI  ERE.  IOI 

I  was  strongly  inclined  to  be  heroic  and  refuse  this  un- 
expected treat.  But  how  could  I  !  Les  Prfcieuses,  le 
Misanthrope!  and  I  had  been  so  long  looking  forward  to 
the  pleasure  that  was  now  offered  me ! 

I  thought  that  at  all  events  I  owed  it  to  myself  to 
counterfeit  indifference. 

"  Very  well ;  let  it  be  as  you  desire,"  I  said,  resuming 
my  place  at  the  table. 

"  Oh  !  if  my  proposition  is  not  agreeable  to  you,  you 
have  only  to  say  so,"  replied  my  father,  who  was  not  taken 
in  by  my  little  comedy.  "  Perhaps,  after  all,  you  would 
prefer  to  return  to  the  lycee  ?  I  don't  know  but  it  would 
be  the  best  thing  for  you  to  do." 

"  There,  don't  torment  the  child,"  said  mamma,  as  she 
poured  our  coffee  for  us,  "  and  be  off  with  you  at  once. 
You  will  need  to  hurry  to  get  there  for  the  rising  of 
the  curtain." 

Dear  little  mother  !  how  I  could  have  hugged  her  for 
that  speech !  But  my  dignity  would  permit  no  manifesta- 
tion. I  remained  glued  to  my  chair  in  gloomy  grandeur. 

"Albert,"  my  father  suddenly  said,  "  seriously,  I  do 
not  desire  your  company  unless  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to 
you." 

There  was  a  sort  of  implied  doubt  in  his  accents  which 
went  to  my  heart. 

"  Oh,  father !  you  cannot  doubt  it,"  I  warmly  said, 
forgetful  of  my  pose. 

He  looked  at  me  with  a  tenderness  in  which  there  was 
less  sadness. 

"That  is  well,"  he  replied.  "And  now,  if  you  in  turn 
wish  to  confer  on  me  a  very  great  pleasure,  do  you  know 
what  you  will  do  ?  you  will  go  and  put  on  your  uniform 
for  the  visit  to  the  theatre,  as  you  were  about  to  do  for 


102  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

your  return  to  the  lycee.  Call  it  a  caprice  if  you  will,  but 
I  love  you  better  in  the  tunic.  It  seems  to  me  you  are 
more  like  my  Albert,  my  dear  little  boy  of  yesterday,  who 
is  in  such  a  hurry  to  be  a  man  and  cut  loose  from  my 
authority." 

"  Nothing  is  easier,"  I  murmured,  a  little  discomfited. 
"  Full  uniform  !  your  order  shall  be  obeyed,  sir.  The 
proctor  himself  can  make  no  objection  if  we  should  meet 
him  in  the  corridors." 

I  ran  up-stairs  to  my  room  to  effect  the  transformation. 
Five  minutes  later  we  were  seated  in  a  licensed  coupe"  and 
on  our  way  to  the  Rue  de  Richelieu. 

Upon  giving  the  matter  due  consideration,  I  could  not 
tell  whether  I  ought  to  be  pleased  or  angry.  The  pros- 
pect of  an  evening  at  the  Comedie-Frangaise  instead  of 
returning  to  the  lycee  was  certainly  agreeable.  But  I 
could  not  help  thinking  now  and  then  of  the  verdict 
delivered  on  my  poetry,  and  it  seemed  to  me  very  harsh. 
How  could  I  believe  that  Molecule,  the  author  of  an 
epic  poem  in  twenty-four  cantos,  had  been  so  grossly  at 
fault  as  to  the  merit  of  my  verse  ?  My  father's  mind 
was  probably  prejudiced.  Like  all  fathers,  he  did  not 
wish  to  see  his  son  embark  in  the  career  of  letters,  and 
his  fears  blinded  him  as  to  the  beauties  of  Malediction. 
Have  not  all  great  men  had  similar  opposition  to  contend 
with  ?  What  poet  was  ever  encouraged  in  his  vocation  by 
his  parents  ? 

Thus  I  communed  with  myself  in  my  corner,  while  my 
father,  equally  silent,  peacefully  smoked  his  cigar  at  the 
other  window. 

But  here  we  are,  under  the  peristyle  of  the  theatre,  and 
without  delay  are  ushered  to  our  places  in  the  fourth  row 
of  the  orchestra.  We  have  hardly  time  to  cast  a  glance 


BEFORE    THE    TRIBUNAL    OF  MO  LI  ERE.  1  03 

around  the  house.     The  curtain  rises,  Alceste  and  Philinte 
appear  upon  the  scene. 

Laissez-moi  la,  vous  dis-je,  et  courez  vous  cacher.  .  . 

From  the  very  opening  speech  the  appropriateness  and 
masculine  beauty  of  the  language  laid  hold  on  me  and  bore 
me  away  to  the  serene  realms  of  classic  art.  Vanished, 
my  anger  and  ill-humour  !  What  ineffable  delight  to  hear 
from  the  lips  of  the  best  actors  in  the  world  those  clear- 
cut  lines  that  had  been  familiar  to  me  since  childhood  !  I 
did  not  listen,  I  drank  them  in.  My  memory  recited  them 
within  me  before  they  were  spoken,  and,  so  to  speak, 
prompted  the  actor  who  occupied  the  stage. 

And  now  Oronte  appears  behind  the  footlights.  Ah! 
ah  !  a  coincidence  I  had  not  thought  of  !  He,  too,  is  an 
amateur  poet,  and  his  sonnet  has  been  the  means  of  getting 
him  into  a  scrape  almost  exactly  similar  to  mine.  Is  it 
possible  that  my  father  could  have  had  the  nefarious 
design  to  —  ?  I  look  at  him  out  of  the  corner  of  my  eye. 
He  is  cool  as  a  cucumber,  and  to  all  appearances  wholly 
absorbed  in  the  action  of  the  play. 

Oronte  reads  his  sonnet.  A  question  —  Can  it  be  that 
I  am  as  absurd  as  he  when  I  communicate  my  inspirations 
to  the  public  ?  Yes,  alas,  and  probably  a  great  deal  more. 
Oronte  is  a  man  of  the  world,  and  his  manners  are  perfect. 
I  am  but  an  ill-licked  cub  of  a  schoolboy.  Oh,  my  illu- 
sions !  It  seems  to  me  that  I  see  myself  imaged  there  on 
the  boards  in  one  of  those  spherical  mirrors  that  reproduce 
in  distorted  shape  all  one's  deformities. 

PHILINTE. 

Je  n'ai  jamais  out  de  vers  si  bien  tournes. 


Molecule,  parbleu  !     It  is  Molecule  in  person. 


104  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

ORONTE. 

Vous  me  flattez  et  vous  croyez  peut-etre.  .  .  . 

PHILINTE. 

Non,  je  ne  flatte  point.  .  .  . 

ALCESTE. 

Et  que  fais-tu  done,  traitre  ? 

Can  it  be  possible  that  Molecule's  object  in  praising  my 
poetry  was  simply  to  be  "  paid  in  the  same  coin  ?  "  The 
thought  is  horrible.  Now  it  is  Alceste's  turn  : 

ALCESTE. 

Monsieur,  cette  matiere  est  toujours  delicate 
Et  sur  le  be  I  esprit  nous  aimons  qu'on  nous  flatte. 
Mais  un  jour  a  quelqu'un  dont  je  tairai  le  nom, 
Je  disais,  en  voyant  des  vers  de  sa  fa$on, 
Qu'il  faut  gu'un  galant  homme  ait  toujours  grand  empire 
Sur  les  demangeaisons  qui  lui  prennent  d^ecrire  ; 
QuHl  doit  tenir  la  bride  aux  grands  empressements 
Qu'on  a  de  faire  e"tat  de  tels  amusements  ; 
Et  que  par  la  chaleur  de  montrer  ses  outrages 
Ou  s' expose  a  jouer  de  mauvais  personnages.  .  .  . 

These  terrible  truths  fall  on  my  devoted  head  with  the 
crushing  effect  of  so  many  blows  of  a  bludgeon.  I  am 
as  red  as  if  the  whole  house  knew  that  it  was  on  my 
miserable  back  that  the  lash  of  the  satirist  was  descend- 
ing. But  that  is  not  all. 

.  .  .  Quel  besoin  si  pressant  avez-vous  de  rimer, 
Et  qui  diantre  vous  pousse  a  vous  faire  imprimer  ? 
Si  I"1  on  peut  pardonner  lessor  d"1  un  mauvais  livre, 
Ce  n'est  qu'aux  malheureux  qui  composent  pour  vivre. 
Croyez-moi,  rtsistez  a  vos  tentations.  .  .  . 

I  am  dead,  excoriated,  flayed  alive.  And  the  anger  of 
Oronte ! 


BEFORE    THE    TRIBUNAL    OF  MO  LI  ERE.  1 05 

ORONTE. 

Et  mot,  je  vous  soutiens  que  mes  vers  sont  fort  bons  / 

What  I  said  of  mine,  almost  word  for  word !  And  the 
entire  house  is  bubbling  with  laughter.  The  worst  of  the 
business  is  that  I  am  forced,  in  spite  of  myself,  to  join  in 
the  universal  merriment,  although  I  cannot  help  thinking 
that  the  laughter  is  intended  for  me. 

As  for  my  father,  he  mercifully  refrains  from  looking 
at  me.  I  am  unable  to  express  my  gratitude  for  his 
forbearance. 

Ugh  !  At  last  the  horrible  scene  is  ended.  The  curtain 
falls  on  the  first  act. 

"  I  like  M.  -  —  extremely  in  the  role  of  Oronte,"  my 
father  observes.  "  He  acts  with  perfect  naturalness,  and 
his  pained  surprise  when  Alceste  tells  him  some  unpleas- 
ant truths  is  exceedingly  comic." 

I  would  like  to  say  a  word  or  two  in  reply,  but  cannot 
compass  it.  I  am  as  if  crushed,  annihilated.  A  great 
convulsion  has  occurred  within  me,  and  all  my  strength 
is  gone.  The  three  raps  are  heard  behind  the  curtain, 
fortunately,  and  the  second  act  begins.  That  is  the  usage 
at  the  Theatre  -  Fran^ais,  when  classic  plays  are  acted. 
The  entr'  actes  are  only  of  sufficient  length  to  permit 
the  necessary  changes  in  the  scenery,  which  is  generally 
extremely  simple.  I  like  the  custom  ;  it  is  in  harmony 
with  the  respect  due  to  the  masterpieces  of  our  national 
literature,  and  the  spectator's  interest  in  the  play  is  not 
allowed  to  cool.  Watch  him,  and  see  how  heartily  he 
applauds,  how  he  enters  heart  and  soul  into  the  fable  of 
the  poet,  how  he  identifies  himself  with  the  hero ! 

In  the  mood  that  I  was  in,  this  uninterrupted  flow  of 
brilliant  repartee  and  elegant  periods  did  me  more  good 


106  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

than  I  can  tell.  The  sufferings  of  my  wounded  vanity 
were  gradually  alleviated.  I  yielded  myself  to  the  charm 
of  the  simple  and  logical  action,  I  gave  myself  up  to  the 
soothing  influence  of  the  harmonious  verse.  The  denoue- 
ment came  like  the  entrance  of  a  stately  ship  into  her 
haven.  As  the  curtain  fell  for  the  fifth  time  on  these 
words  of  Alceste, — 

.  .  .  Et  je  m'en  vais  chercher  un  endroit  e"carte 
Oil  d'etre  homme  d^honneur  on  ait  la  liber te", 

it  seemed  to  me  that  I  was  emerging  from  another  life 
and  returning  to  myself,  after  having  been  successively 
Alceste,  Philinte,  Oronte,  Acaste,  and  Clitandre. 

"  Well,  how  did  you  enjoy  it  ? "  asked  my  father. 

"Wasn't  it  magnificent!"  was  all  the  answer  I  could 
make.  "  What  a  pity  that  that  is  all !  " 

"  But  that  is  not  all.  There  is  the  Precieuses  Ridicules 
to  come  yet  — 

The  joyous  laughter  there  was  this  time  when  the 
curtain  rose  on  the  dwelling  of  old  man  Gorgibus,  and 
how  one  almost  seemed  to  see  the  sparkle  of  the  wit 
as  the  good  things  fell  thick  and  fast  from  the  lips  of 
Mascarille  !  I  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  performance 
with  such  zest  that  it  did  not  occur  to  me  to  apply  to 
myself  a  certain  passage  that  fitted  my  case  only  too 
accurately : 

MASCARILLE  :  —  Such  as  you  see  me,  I  dally  a  little  with  the 
Muse,  when  I  feel  disposed  that  way,  and  you  may  see  circulating  in 
the  boudoirs  of  Paris,  written  by  this  right  hand,  two  hundred  songs, 
as  many  sonnets,  four  hundred  epigrams,  and  more  than  a  thousand 
madrigals,  to  say  nothing  of  portraits  and  enigmas. 

MADELON  :  —  I  must  tell  you  that  I  just  dote  on  portraits ;  I  think 
there  is  nothing  more  gallant. 


"  SOMETHING    IN    ME    SEEMS    TO    HAVE    GIVEN    WAY." 


BEFORE    THE    TRIBUNAL    OF  MO  LI  ERE.  1 09 

M ASCARILLE  :  —  Portraits  are  difficult ;  they  call  for  great  percep- 
tive powers.  You  shall  see  some  after  my  manner  that  will  not 
offend  your  taste. 

CATHOS  :  —  I  am  awfully  fond  of  enigmas,  for  my  part. 

MASCARILLE:  —  They  sharpen  the  understanding,  and  I  made 
four  this  very  morning  which  I  will  give  you  to  decipher. 

MADELON  :  —  Madrigals  are  agreeable,  when  they  are  ingeniously 
turned. 

MASCARILLE  :  —  That  is  the  very  thing  I  most  excel  in ;  why,  I 
am  at  work  now  putting  the  entire  Roman  history  into  madrigals  ! 


All  that  reads  charmingly,  as  I  had  long  been  aware. 
But  how  differently  it  sounded  from  the  lips  of  the  con- 
summate artists  whom  I  had  before  me !  As  interpreted 
by  them,  the  lines  breathed  a  drollery,  a  subtlety,  a 
profound  philosophy  whose  existence  had  hitherto  been 
unsuspected.  I  laughed ;  I  laughed  until  I  thought  I 
should  never  leave  off,  and  at  the  same  time  I  was  con- 
scious of  a  certain  feeling  of  respect.  I  was  not  tempted 
to  contemn  that  which  gave  me  pleasure,  as  is  so  frequently 
the  case.  When  the  cudgels  began  to  play  and  the  blows 
fell  hot  and  heavy  on  the  backs  of  Mascarille  and  his 
friend,  Jodelet,  I  felt  a  personal  grievance  against  those 
great  boobies,  Lagrange  and  Ducroicy,  for  breaking  up 
such  a  charming  dance  and  interrupting  so  brilliant  a 
conversation. 

But  now  the  end  was  really  come.  It  was  nearly 
midnight,  and  time  for  us  to  be  thinking  of  home  and  bed. 

"What  do  you  say  to  walking  as  far  as  the  Cours-la- 
Reine  ? "  my  father  proposed  to  me.  "  A  bath  of  fresh 
air  won't  do  us  any  harm  after  being  shut  up  so  long  in 
that  sweat-box." 

The  gas-lamps  stretched  away  before  us  in  long  perspec- 
tive as  we  pursued  our  way  down  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  and 


110  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

the  Champs-Elysees.  The  influence  of  the  various  emo- 
tions I  had  so  lately  undergone  remained  with  me,  and 
made  me  silent,  and  my  father,  who  had  always  cherished 
the  deepest  veneration  for  our  great  comic  poet,  was  no 
less  moved  than  I.  It  was  not  until  we  reached  the  Palais 
de  1'  Industrie  that  the  silence  was  broken. 

"Well,"  my  father  suddenly  said,  "do  you  think  that 
upon  the  whole  your  evening  has  been  as  pleasant  as  if  you 
had  spent  it  with  your  friend  Lecachey  ? " 

"  Oh,  father !  how  can  you  ask  me  such  a  question  ? 
You  know  very  well  that  I  shall  never  have  a  dearer  friend 
than  you  — 

I  had  taken  his  hand,  and,  walking  by  his  side,  I  squeezed 
it  as  I  had  been  used  to  do  when  a  little  child.  The 
warmth  and  spontaneity  of  the  impulsive  action  pleased 
him.  He  responded  to  my  clasp  and  walked  on  a 
little  way,  in  silence.  Then,  pursuing  his  train  of 
thought : 

"  I  do  not  doubt  your  affection,  my  dear  son,  and  God 
grant  I  may  never  be  obliged  to  do  so,"  he  said,  with  a 
gravity  that  impressed  me.  "  But  you  must  admit  that  for 
several  Sundays  lately  you  have  neglected  us  a  little,  and 
have  gone  outside  in  quest  of  distractions  less  wholesome 
than  those  you  find  in  the  bosom  of  your  family.  Unfavour- 
able reports  reach  me  from  various  quarters  of  your  com- 
rade, Lecachey,  — you  will  tell  me  that  it  was  I  who  was 
the  means  of  bringing  you  together ;  I  have  discovered 
since  that  it  was  not  the  best  thing  I  might  have  done. 
The  more  I  see  of  his  family  the  less  I  like  their  ways  and 
mode  of  life.  I  am  told  that  all  the  young  man  thinks  of 
is  racing,  horses,  and  betting.  If  he  attends  the  classes 
of  the  lycee,  my  informant  added,  it  is  more  for  the  name 
of  the  thing  than  with  any  desire  to  profit  by  the  instruc- 


BEFORE    THE    TRIBUNAL    OF  MO  LI  ERE,  III 

tion  that  is  dispensed  there.  He  is  eighteen  years  old  and 
has  not  even  his  bachelor's  diploma  — 

"And  that  is  not  the  worst,  for  it  is  extremely  doubtful 
if  he  has  it  when  he  is  nineteen,"  I  could  not  help 
remarking. 

"It  is  too  bad,"  my  father  went  on,  "and  I  cannot 
applaud  myself  for  having  once  recommended  such  a  com- 
panion to  my  son.  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  it  was 
a  real  misfortune  for  you  that  you  and  Baudouin  should 
ever  have  been  parted." 

"  Oh,  how  true  that  is  !  "  I  cried,  effusively.  "  I  was  so 
accustomed  to  share  with  him  my  tasks,  my  pleasures,  my 
most  secret  thoughts,  that  I  feel  a  sense  of  incompleteness 
now  he  is  no  longer  with  me.  He  was  my  strength,  my 
joy,  my  living  conscience  !  So  honest,  so  brave,  so  good, 
so  sensible  !  Ah,  friends  like  Baudouin  are  scarce,  and  now 
that  I  have  lost  him  I  feel  how  necessary  he  was  to  me ! " 

"  My  dear  boy,  I  am  pleased  to  see  you  appreciate  your 
friend  in  accordance  with  his  desert,  but  permit  me  to  call 
your  attention  to  the  confession  of  weakness  implied  in 
your  words.  Is  it  manly  to  give  way  to  discouragement 
and  subside  into  inactivity  because  the  comrade  whom  you 
looked  up  to  as  an  example  and  support  is  no  longer  with 
you  ?  Because  you  can  no  longer  exchange  with  him  that 
commerce  of  emulation  and  mutual  good  offices  which  had 
become  a  second  nature  to  you,  should  you  abandon  your- 
self to  the  hazards  of  a  vulgar  intimacy  with  a  lazy,  worth- 
less blockhead  ?  It  is  in  your  own  sentiment  of  duty,  in 
the  knowledge  of  what  you  owe  to  your  family  and  to 
yourself,  that  you  should  look  for  strength  to  enable  you 
to  follow  the  right  path." 

Here  my  father  paused  to  hail  a  passing  coach,  the  driver 
of  which  undertook  to  transport  us  to  Billancourt. 


1 1 2  SCHOOLS O  Y  DA  YS  IN  FRANCE. 

"I  acknowledge  the  justice  of  all  you  say,"  I  said,  as  I 
took  my  place  in  the  coupe,  "and  I  promise,  my  dear 
father,  to  heed  your  words  of  warning.  But  how  much 
easier  it  was  to  tread  that  right  path  of  which  you  speak 
in  company  with  Baudouin  ! " 


€ 
OF  THE 
:VERSITY 


CHAPTER  X. 

APPROACH    OF    AUTUMN. CAN    I    BELIEVE   MY  EYES  ? 

THE  weather  had  been  growing  perceptibly  colder 
for  some  days  past,  and  on  returning  to  the  school- 
room one  morning  after  the  ten  o'clock  recess,  we  were 
agreeably  surprised  to  find  a  fire  lighted  in  the  stove. 

Anselme,  the  attendant  who  had  presided  over  this  deli- 
cate operation,  was  a  favourite  with  all  hands.  He  had 
lingered  to  receive  our  thanks,  and  when  we  came  trooping 
in  from  the  playground  with  a  collection  of  beautifully  blue 
noses,  was  standing  erect  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 

"  A  fire  !  a  fire  ! "  was  the  intelligence  that  immediately 
spread  through  the  ranks. 

"  Anselme,  that  was  a  glorious  idea !  " 

"  Bravo,  Anselme  ! " 

"Three  cheers  for  Anselme!  " 

"  Messieurs,  1  propose  that  we  vote  Anselme  has 
deserved  well  of  the  country!" 

The  good  fellow,  delighted  with  this  annual  demonstra- 
tion, which  he  prized  as  highly  as  if  it  had  not  been  re- 
peated by  some  fifteen  or  twenty  previous  generations  of 
students,  was  laughing  and  showing  all  his  teeth,  when 
suddenly  his  honest  satisfaction  was  frozen  by  a  shriek  of 
anguish. 

It  was  from  Molecule  that  the  shriek  proceeded. 


I  14  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  My  papers  !  — What  have  you  done  with  what  was  in 
the  stove  ? "  he  faltered,  in  a  voice  that  was  hardly  articu- 
late, addressing  Anselme. 

"  Faith,  I  laid  M.  Valadier's  skull-cap,  slippers,  and 
alpaca  sleeves  upon  his  desk,"  the  poor  fellow  contritely 
answered,  "  but  as  for  the  papers  you  speak  of,  I  looked  at 
them  and  saw  they  only  contained  poetry,  so  I  used  them 
to  light  my  fire  — 

"Wretch!  —  my  epic  poem! — nine  whole  cantos  that 
only  yesterday  I  confided  to  M.  Valadier ! "  Molecule 
feebly  murmured,  reeling  under  the  dreadful  blow. 

He  tottered  on  his  little  legs,  and  I  feared  he  was 
about  to  fall  in  a  faint.  But  suddenly,  his  rage  over- 
mastering him,  as  if  under  the  impulsion  of  a  spring, 
he  hurled  himself  on  Anselme,  and  caught  him  by  the 
throat. 

"  Speak,  brute  !  Vandal !  Omar  of  modern  times  !  You 
cannot  have  burnt  all !  Speak  :  where  is  the  rest  ?" 

"  Mon  Dieu,  monsieur,  I  am  awfully  sorry,"  said  the 
poor  man.  "  But  the  kindling  wood  was  damp,  you  know, 
seeing  as  how  we  have  to  keep  it  in  the  cellar,  and  it  took 
me  more  than  half  an  hour  to  get  the  fire  started.  And 
when  I  looked  and  saw  the  poetry,  I  thought  it  must 
be  somebody's  old  exercise,  and  then  I  used  it.  Oh  !  " 
he  suddenly  exclaimed,  rummaging  in  his  pockets,  "per- 
haps there  may  be  some  little  of  it  left  — 

A  ray  of  hope  rose  to  Molecule's  despairing  eyes. 

Anselme  consumed  as  much  as  two  or  three  minutes  in 
going  through  his  clothes.  He  produced,  successively,  a 
fragment  of  newspaper,  a  knife  with  a  buckhorn  handle, 
a  box  of  matches,  a  calico  pocket  -  handkerchief,  a  ball  of 
twine,  a  lamp -wick,  some  steel  pens,  an  extraordinarily 
greasy  pass-book,  two  or  three  nails,  a  short  pipe,  admi- 


"MOLECULE'S  LITTLE  LEGS  GAVE  WAY  BENEATH 


APPROACH  OF  AUTUMN.  I  I/ 

rably  coloured,  an  india-rubber  tobacco  pouch,  a  bunch  of 
keys,  and  finally  a  bundle  of  letters. 

"  Those  are  letters  from  the  folks  at  home,"  he  said,  re- 
placing the  bundle  in  his  pocket. 

The  search  began  afresh,  and  resulted  in  the  exhuma- 
tion of  a  small  volume  entitled  "  Cook-book  for  Every  Day 
in  the  Year,"  a  pack  of  playing  cards,  a  brass  thimble,  and 
a  corkscrew.  There  was  no  vestige  of  the  lost  epic, 
however. 

"Ah!  what  a  stupid  ass  I  am!"  exclaimed  Anselme, 
smiting  his  forehead. 

He  plunged  his  hand  into  the  capacious  pocket  of  his 
blue  apron,  and  this  time  brought  to  light  two  or  three 
sticks  of  kindling  wood,  a  half-burned  faggot,  and  a  sheet 
of  writing-paper,  all  torn  and  rumpled. 

"  Ah  !  "  he  said,  triumphantly,  "  I  knew  there  must  be 
a  little  bit  of  it  left  somewhere  !" 

And  sure  enough,  on  the  scrap  of  paper,  traced  in  Mole- 
cule's most  superlative  writing,  were  the  words  :  END  OF 
CANTO  VII. 

"  All  doubt  is  at  an  end !  the  wretch  has  destroyed  the 
fruit  of  my  midnight  labours ! "  cried  the  unhappy 
author. 

He  had  dropped  upon  a  bench,  and  was  holding  his 
head  in  his  hands  in  an  attitude  of  poetic  despair. 

"O  Camoens  !  "  he  murmured,  "  to  thee,  at  least,  it  was 
given  to  preserve  thy  manuscript  from  the  wreck,  holding 
it  aloft  above  the  raging  billows,  while  thou  didst  swim 
to  land !  But  my  calamity,  what  tongue  or  pen  shall 
describe  it !  Avenging  Furies,  what  punishment  shall  be 
meted  out  to  the  obscure  myrmidon,  the  odious  famulus 
who  wounded  me  in  all  that  I  had  dearest  ? " 

Molecule  had  risen  to  his  feet. 


Il8  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS   IN  FRANCE. 

"  Yes,  I  will  be  avenged !  "  he  roared,  striding  up  to 
Anselme.  "  I  will  nail  you  by  the  ears  to  the  pillory  of 
history !  I  will  vomit  my  burning  indignation  in  iambics 
that  shall  devote  your  memory  to  the  execration  of  future 
ages  !  Your  abhorred  name  shall  be  written  in  company 
with  that  of  Erostratus.  I  will  hale  you  before  the  judg- 
ment seat  of  posterity! " 

Anselme,  terrified  by  these  imprecations,  whose  mean- 
ing was  not  clear  to  him,  but  which  by  their  vehemence 
acted  only  the  more  strongly  on  his  impressionable  nature, 
had  gradually  backed  away  toward  the  door.  He  now 
made  a  precipitate  rush  through  the  convenient  exit,  and 
disappeared  in  the  corridor,  thus,  by  flight,  saving  himself 
from  the  immediate  consequences  of  his  crime.  Such  a 
display  of  pusillanimity  brought  a  smile  to  Molecule's 
lips.  His  fury  gave  way  to  contempt.  Drawing  his 
snuff-box  from  his  pocket,  he  refreshed  himself  with  a 
hugh  pinch,  which  appeared  to  exert  a  beneficial  influence 
on  his  nerves. 

M.  Valadier  immediately  took  advantage  of  the  cessa- 
tion of  hostilities,  to  beat  a  loud  tattoo  with  his  penholder 
on  his  desk,  thereby  ordering  us  to  our  places,  for  we  had 
all  remained  grouped  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  amazed 
witnesses  of  the  tragic  scene. 

This  call  to  order,  modest  as  it  was,  had  an  unforeseen 
effect  on  Molecule,  by  directing  his  wrath  against  M.  Vala- 
dier. 

"After  all,  it  was  wrong  in  me  to  be  angry  with  An- 
selme," he  said,  in  a  voice  thick  with  passion.  "  Anselme 
is  but  the  object,  and,  doubtless,  unconscious  instrument 
of  some  atrocious  scheme  of  envy.  A  question  that  his- 
tory will  have  the  right  to  ask  is,  what  motive  could  have 
induced  the  man  who  had  possession  of  my  manuscript  to 


APPROACH  OF  AUTUMN.  119 

place  it  in  a  stove !  A  strange  receptacle  for  papers,  one 
would  say  !  And  if  it  shall  be  proven  that  the  man  who  did 
this  thing  was  a  broken-winded  poet,  a  starveling  rhyme- 
ster, an  author  without  readers,  what  is  the  construction 
that  will  be  placed  upon  his  conduct  ? 

Here  M.  Valadier's  few  remaining  hairs  could  be  dis-* 
tinctly  seen  to  rise  in  horror,  and  stand  erect  upon  his  head. 

"  That  is  a  base  and  odious  insinuation  !  "  he  cried, 
with  the  indignation  of  calumniated  virtue,  "  an  insinuation 
that  I  cannot  allow  to  pass  unchallenged.  Every  one 
knows  that  it  has  long  been  my  custom  to  make  the  stove 
a  receptacle  for  such  things  as  there  was  not  room  for 
in  my  desk.  But  we  will  delay  further  explanations, 
until  a  more  suitable  moment.  To  your  tasks,  young 
gentlemen !  " 

A  second  tattoo  on  the  arm  of  his  chair  emphasized 
this  discourse,  probably  the  longest  that  M.  Valadier  had 
ever  uttered  in  his  life.  Quiet  was  gradually  restored,  the 
whispers  subsided,  and  every  one  settled  down  to  his  work, 
while  poor  Molecule  sat  holding  his  head  in  his  hands,  the 
picture  of  despair. 

At  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  so,  he  gave  signs 
of  life,  and  I  saw  him  scribble  a  note,  which  was  presently 
handed  to  me. 

"  I  have  a  favour  to  ask  of  you,"  it  said.  "  You 
mentioned  to  me  one  day  that  you  intended  to  take  the 
word  'Aiupwy  as  your  motto.  I  want  you  to  relinquish 
it  to  me,  for  it  is  to  me,  alas !  that  such  a  motto  is 
now  particularly  appropriate." 

"  It  gives  me  the  more  pleasure  to  grant  your  request," 
I  immediately  replied,  "  that  I  had  determined  to  sever  my 
connection  with  both  poetry  and  despair.  It  is  a  bargain, 
therefore  —  'Avcfyxj;  is  your  property." 


120  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE 

This  sacrifice  appeared  to  alleviate  Molecule's  suffering 
a  little.  He  proceeded  to  write  the  word,  the  right  and 
title  to  which  I  had  abandoned  to  him  in  perpetuity,  at 
the  head  of  a  blank  page,  and  made  it  the  subject  of  his 
iambics.  He  was  evidently  desirous  to  strike  while  the 
iron  was  hot,  and  not  let  his  indignation  have  time  to  cool. 

At  the  noonday  recess  M.  Valadier,  still  smarting  under 
the  imputation  that  Molecule  had  cast  upon  him,  insisted 
on  convoking  a  jury  of  honour.'  Dutheil  and  I  were  en- 
deavouring to  appease  his  honourable  susceptibilities  and 
make  him  understand  that  no  one  attached  the  least  im- 
portance to  the  words  of  our  embryo  poet,  when  suddenly 
I  felt  two  big  hands  laid  on  my  eyes. 

"  Come,  Thomereau,  let  up  on  your  monkey  tricks  !  "  I 
said,  as  I  struggled  to  release  myself,  convinced  that  it  was 
the  chartered  buffoon  of  the  school  I  had  to  deal  with. 

The  two  hands  were  removed.  I  turned  about.  How 
shall  I  express  my  stupefaction  ? 

Baudouin  stood  before  me. 

A  cloud  passed  across  my  eyes.  I  thought  they  must 
be  deceiving  me. 

But  I  could  not  for  long  deny  the  evidence  of  my 
senses.  That  tall  young  fellow  in  the  well-worn  uniform 
of  the  Chatillon  Academy,  with  brawny  shoulders  and  a 
pair  of  enormous  side-whiskers  —  that  robustious  youth 
who  stood  regarding  me  with  such  frank  and  friendly  eyes 
and  laughing  at  my  discomfiture  —  was  indeed  Baudouin, 
Jacques  Baudouin,  the  original  and  only  Baudouin. 

I  commenced,  naturally  enough,  by  throwing  my  arms 
about  his  neck. 

After  that  came  the  exclamations. 

"  Well,  I  never  !  Who  would  have  thought  it !  There 
was  a  surprise  —  a  famous  good  one !  Just  give  me  a 


APPROACH   OF  AUTUMN.  121 

pinch,  will  you,  that  I  may  know  I  am  not  dreaming  — 

And  next  the  questions  : 

"  What  miracle  was  the  cause  ?  What  sudden  de- 
cision ? " 

"  This  letter  will  tell  you  all,"  Baudouin  finally  said, 
when  he  was  given  a  chance  to  breathe. 

He  handed  me  a  folded  sheet  of  paper  that  he  took  from 
his  pocket.  I  instantly  recognized  my  father's  handwrit- 
ing. Regardless  of  my  inquisitive  comrades  who  had 
come  and  formed  a  circle  round  us,  I  hurriedly  perused 
the  letter,  which  was  addressed  to  Baudouin.  This  is 
substantially  what  it  said  : 

"  MY  DEAR  YOUNG  FRIEND  : — I  am  going  to  ask  from  you,  in  Al- 
bert's name,  a  very  great  sacrifice,  nothing  less  than  your  freedom. 
You  are  at  Bourgas,  I  hear,  with  your  excellent  mother,  and  have 
not  yet  made  up  your  mind  as  to  a  profession.  I  ask  you  to  defer 
your  decision  for  the  present  and  go  and  spend  a  supplementary 
year  with  my  son  at  the  Lyce'e  Montaigne.  You  need  not  worry 
over  the  material  aspect  of  the  question ;  I  will  be  responsible  for 
your  expenses,  and  if  you  insist  on  it  you  can  reimburse  me  some 
day  when  your  labours  shall  have  made  you  independent.  I  assure 
you  that  in  case  you  accept  my  proposition  it  will  be  I  who  shall  be 
your  obligee.  Your  friendship  for  Albert  has  always  exerted  so 
wholesome  and  beneficial  an  influence  over  him  that  I  should  not 
hesitate  to  make  much  greater  sacrifices  to  ensure  him  its  continu- 
ance. Do  not  then,  I  pray  you,  look  at  my  proposition  in  any  other 
light  than  its  true  one,  which  is,  on  the  one  hand,  to  secure  your  com- 
panionship for  my  son,  and  on  the  other  to  facilitate  the  completion 
of  your  classic  studies  by  giving  you  the  inestimable  advantage  of  a 
year  of  rhetoric  at  Paris.  It  will  not  be  your  mother  who  will  raise 
objections,  of  that  I  am  very  certain.  From  what  I  know  of  her 
love  and  devotion  for  her  son,  she  will  appreciate  the  immense  ad- 
vantage that  must  accrue  to  you  in  every  way  from  this  additional 
year  of  study.  So,  let  me  hope  that  there  may  be  nothing  to  prevent 
the  accomplishment  of  the  plan  which  I  submit  to  you, —  an'l  if 
there  is  not,  please  do  not  even  give  yourself  the  trouble  to  answer 


122  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

this,  but  get  on  the  train  and  come  straight  to  us  at    Billancourt. 
Two  hours  later  you  will  be  at  Albert's  side. 

"Yours  most  faithfully, 

"J.  B.  BESNARD." 

"You  don't  suppose  that  I  needed  to  be  asked  twice !  " 
Baudouin  added,  by  way  of  commentary,  when  I  had  fin- 
ished reading  the  letter.  "  I  answered  your  father  by 
wire  accepting  his  generous  proposal,  and  set  out  immedi- 
ately. I  had  meant  to  notify  you  of  my  coming,  but  on 
second  thought  I  concluded  it  would  be  better  fun  to 
tumble  in  on  you  unawares,  like  a  brickbat  frtfm  the 
chimney.  And  here  I  am  !  Mamma  was  n't  altogether 
pleased,  though.  She  had  counted  on  keeping  me  with 
her  indefinitely,  and  was  already  beginning  to  talk  of 
having  me  superintend  the  harvesting  operations  next 
season.  But  she  is  never  wanting  when  a  sacrifice  is  to 
be  made,  so  she  gave  her  consent  and  wrote  a  letter  of 
thanks  to  your  father.  As  for  you  and  me,  our  initial 
harvest  shall  be  laurels  !  " 

"  Hum !  "  said  I,  rather  dubiously,  "  the  season  for 
laurels  is  over,  here  ;  at  all  events  they  are  more  difficult 
to  gather  than  at  Chatillon-sur-Leze." 

"  Good !  you  are  probably  going  to  tell  me  that  these 
Parisians  can  whip  you  in  Latin  Composition ! "  Bau- 
douin replied,  who  had  unlimited  faith  in  my  literary 
abilities. 

"  Whip  me !  Do  you  know  what  my  standing  in  the 
class  was  yesterday  ?  Eighteenth  !  And  they  are  not  all 
Parisians,  either,  who  are  ahead  of  me.  There  are  fellows 
from  Rouen,  Grenoble,  and  Bordeaux  ;  there  is  one  from 
Chartres  and  another  from  Beziers  - 

"You  don't  tell  me  —  from  Beziers,  now?"  Baudouin 
interjected,  incredulously.  "Well,  you'll  never  make  me 


APPROACH   OF  AUTUMN.  123 

believe  but  that  if  a  man  from  Beziers  outranks  you  it  is 
your  own  fault !  " 

I  was  about  attempting  to  combat  this  geographical 
prejudice  when  Dutheil  came  up  to  us. 

"  You  must  really  make  Molecule  understand  how  wicked 
and  absurd  his  conduct  is,"  he  said,  apologizing  for  intrud- 
ing on  our  conversation.  "  You  are  the  only  one  he  will 
listen  to,  and  M.  Valadier  is  really  feeling  very  badly  over 
the  foolish  business." 

"  Mon  Dieuy  I  shall  be  only  too  glad  if  I  can  be  of  any 
service,"  I  said,  having  first  introduced  Baudouin  and  Du- 
theil to  each  other.  And  at  the  same  time  I  signalled 
Molecule  to  come  and  join  our  party. 

Like  the  rest  of  our  comrades,  he  had  watched  with  ex- 
treme interest  the  reception  accorded  to  the  new  arrival. 
He  came  forward,  therefore,  without  having  to  be  invited 
twice.  I  at  once  put  him  in  good  humour  by  presenting 
him  to  Baudouin,  with  a  glowing  eulogy  of  his  poetic  talent. 
That  naturally  afforded  an  opportunity  of  relating  the 
terrible  calamity  that  French  literature  had  suffered  in  his 
person. 

Baudouin,  who  had  a  spice  of  malice  in  his  composition, 
saw  at  once  where  the  shoe  pinched  our  little  man.  He 
followed  my  lead,  chorusing  my  sentiments,  deplored  the 
accident  much  as  he  might  have  bewailed  the  destruction 
of  the  Iliad,  and  played  his  part  so  well  that  in  less  than 
ten  minutes  the  delighted  Molecule  had  promised  to  dedi- 
cate his  forthcoming  poem  to  him. 

"Well,  now,"  I  said  to  Baudouin  at  this  juncture,  "  I  '11 
bet  you  cannot  guess  what  notion  this  young  man  of  genius 
has  taken  in  his  head  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  allude  to  ?  "  asked  Molecule,  rather  anx- 
iously. 


124  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FKANCE. 

"  He  has  conceived  the  idea  that  his  manuscript  was 
burned  intentionally,  from  spite,  and  whom  do  you  think 
he  accuses  of  such  a  turpitude  ?  Why,  M.  Valadier,  our 
usher,  whom  you  see  standing  over  there,  a  most  worthy 
man,  and  himself  a  poet." 

"  Faith,  I  can  understand  perfectly  that  such  an  idea 
should  have  presented  itself  to  monsieur  in  the  first  mo- 
ment of  his  surprise  and  grief,"  Baudouin  replied,  with  the 
utmost  seriousness.  "  There  is  nothing  extraordinary  in 
that.  In  such  hours  of  trial  one  is  inclined  to  suspect  the 
whole  world.  But  it  would  be  a  great  surprise  to  me  if  a 
man  of  feeling,  as  a  true  poet  cannot  help  but  be,  should 
hesitate  a  moment,  after  his  first  angry  impulse  had  spent 
its  force,  to  acknowledge  his  mistake  and  tender  a  fitting 
apology." 

Molecule  had  bowed  his  head  under  this  indirect  reproof. 
He  recognized  its  justice,  for  he  was  naturally  good-hearted, 
and  had  more  vanity  than  malice  in  his  make-up. 

"  Well,"  he  suddenly  spoke  up,  "  it  shall  not  be  said  that 
I  was  wanting  to  my  duty.  I  will  go  this  instant  and 
make  my  excuses  to  M.  Valadier,  —  and  before  the  whole 
class,  too !  " 

He  was  as  good  as  his  word,  like  the  brave  little  man 
he  was.  As  for  poor  M.  Valadier,  tears  stood  in  his  eyes 
under  their  bristling  brows. 

And  thus  it  was  that  Baudouin' s  first  appearance  at  the 
Lycee  Montaigne  was  marked  by  a  good  action. 


OF  THE 

rjNI^  ERSITT 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  MUSEUM  OF  THE  LOUVRE. 

"  '"T^HERE,  be  off  with  you,  and  go  and  have  a  look  at 
A  Paris  !  "  my  father  said  to  us  after  breakfast  on 
the  morning  of  the  first  Sunday  succeeding  Baudouin's 
arrival. 

It  was  not  necessary  to  repeat  the  command. 

It  was  a  gray  day  but  dry  —  such  weather  as  invites  to 
walking  and  physical  activity.  We  followed  the  high  road 
until  we  came  to  the  Point  -  du  -  Jour,  where  we  turned  off 
and  regained  the  bank  of  the  Seine. 

One  of  the  little  omnibus  steamers  that  ply  on  the  river 
came  along  just  then  ;  we  jumped  aboard.  Baudouin  was 
delighted,  and  I  no  less  so.  The  air  was  cool,  a  nipping 
little  breeze  fluttered  the  rag  that  floated  at  the  diminutive 
craft's  stern  as  if  it  had  been  a  real  flag.  The  screw 
revolved  with  its  regular  chug  -chug.  By  straining  the 
imagination  a  little  we  might  have  thought  we  were 
aboard  a  blue  water  ship,  coming  into  harbour  after  a  long 
voyage.  There  were  few  passengers  on  deck  ;  at  that 
hour  the  current  of  excursionists  was  setting  from  Paris, 
not  returning  to  it. 

Baudouin  continually  plied  me  with  questions  which  I 
was  only  too  delighted  to  answer. 

"  What  is  that  dome  yonder  ?  " 

"The  dome  of  the  Invalides." 


126  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  And  that  huge  edifice  of  iron  and  glass  ? " 

"The  Palais  de  1'Industrie.  Then  come  the  Quai  d' 
Orsay,  the  Palais  Bourbon,  the  Obelisk  towering  above  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde,  which  is  invisible  to  us,  and  last  of 
all,  the  Louvre.  • 

Scarcely  has  the  magic  word  passed  my  lips  when 
Baudouin  cries  : 

"  The  Louvre  !     Is  it  open  to  visitors  to-day  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Then  let  us  go  ashore.  Come,  make  haste  !  I  have 
been  aching  this  ever  so  long  to  see  its  contents." 

The  purring  little  steamer  makes  her  landing.  We  cross 
the  gang-plank  ;  here  we  are  on  the  quay,  here  are  the  Gate 
of  the  Lions  and  the  great  court  of  the  Carrousel. 

"  The  Museum  ?  " 

"To  the  right,  messieurs,  those  steps  that  you  see 
yonder." 

Baudouin  does  not  walk,  he  runs.  Before  he  has  even 
climbed  the  steps  he  is  quite  pale  with  emotion  and 
delight. 

We  pass  rapidly  through  the  vestibule,  with  its  noble 
gallery  of  statuary. 

It  is  very  fine,  but  we  will  not  linger  ;  let  us  ascend  the 
grand  staircase  without  turning  to  look  behind ;  let  us  not 
be  seduced  by  the  terra-cottas  of  the  Campana  collection, 
and  hasten  on  to  the  hall  of  the  Seven  Chimneys 

"  You  must  have  been  here  before,  you  are  so  well 
acquainted  with  the  localities !  "  I  cannot  help  remarking 
to  Baudouin. 

"  I  ?  You  well  know  that  I  have  not.  But  for  the  last 
six  days  I  have  been  studying  the  plan  of  the  Louvre  in  my 
guide-book — Hush! — there  are  Gericault's  Raft  of  the 
Medusa  and  Wounded  Cuirassier  !  " 


THE   MUSEUM  OF   THE   LOUVRE,  I2/ 

"  How  beautiful !     What  strength  !  " 

It  is  I  who  hazard  that  remark ;  Baudouin's  feelings  are 
too  deep  for  utterance.  He  stands  there  with  dilated  eyes 
and  teeth  closely  set,  admiring  with  all  the  strength  of  his 
being,  drinking  in  deep  draughts  of  the  terrible  poetry  that 
exhales  from  those  two  wondrous  pictures. 

Meantime  I  am  observing  the  cheerful  wood  fire  burning 
on  the  hearth,  the  perfect  order  and  arrangement  of  the 
room,  the  liveried  guardians  with  their  grave  and  diplo- 
matic air,  all  those  sumptuous  accessories  that  constitute 
a  setting  worthy  of  the  great  works  of  art.  But  as  for  him, 
he  sees  only  the  pictures,  one  canvas  at  a  time,  a  canvas 
that  punctures  the  wall,  as  he  expresses  it. 

After  the  Gericaults  it  is  Girodet's  Deluge,  that  cluster 
of  human  beings  clinging  desperately  to  a  breaking  branch  ; 
it  is  his  touching  Atala  at  the  Tomb,  and  that  Slumber  of 
Endymion,  so  replete  with  grace  and  religious  sentiment, 
that  one  after  the  other  receive  the  adoration  of  my 
friend. 

To  these  succeed  the  tragic  Justice  Pursuing  Crime  by 
Proudhon,  the  Sabines  by  David,  the  Battle  of  Eylau  by 
Gros,  and  the  humbler  but  interesting  efforts  of  Gerard, 
Drouais,  Sigalon,  and  Mme.  Vigee-Lebrun. 

We  have  been  there  more  than  an  hour,  and  I  have  made 
the  circuit  of  the  room  eight  or  ten  times.  Baudouin 
would  remain  until  the  morrow,  but  I  finally  succeed  in 
dragging  him  away.  Walking  at  my  side  he  murmurs  dis- 
jointed words  : 

"  How  content  I  am  !  How  content  I  am  !  It  exceeds 
my  expectations  a  thousand  fold !  " 

Our  eyes  are  dazzled  with  a  gorgeous  display  of  gold, 
crystal,  marble,  onyx,  Sevres  ware,  gems,  enamels,  silver 
carvings.  It  is  the  Gallery  of  Apollo. 


128  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

We  will  pass  on  without  pausing  before  those  cabinets. 
We  will  pass  on  without  bestowing  a  glance  on  that  ador- 
able window  which  has  witnessed  so  many  bloody  and 
appalling  tragedies.  Let  us  pass  on  and  not  so  much  as 
raise  our  eyes  to  Delacroix's  marvellous  ceiling,  that  satur- 
nalia of  light  and  colour  so  worthy  of  the  day  god  whom  it 
represents  ;  should  Baudouin  perceive  it  he  could  not  be 
prevailed  on  to  leave  the  spot.  To  the  pictures.  It  is  to 
the  Salon  Carre  that  I  desire  to  introduce  him. 

The  Wedding  of  Cana  !  Where  shall  I  find  words  to  de- 
scribe Baudouin 's  raptures  at  sight  of  that  admirable  fete  ! 
It  fortunately  happened  that  the  round  sofa  in  the  middle 
of  the  room  was  unoccupied.  He  dropped  upon  it  rather 
than  sat  down,  like  one  stricken  with  vertigo.  Then  all  at 
once  I  saw  a  smile  appear  upon  his  face.  All  his  features 
were  relaxed  and  illumined  by  a  tender  light. 

"  What  delicious  music  !  "  he  softly  murmured. 

I,  a  profane  outsider,  supposed  that  he  referred  to  the 
concert  which  is  being  given  in  the  foreground  of  the  pic- 
ture by  the  person  in  the  white  dalmatic  playing  on  the 
viol,  and  who  is  no  other  than  Veronese  in  person,  assisted 
by  Titien  performing  on  the  bass-viol  and  Tintorette  on 
the  flute. 

"Can  you  hear  it?"  I  asked,  half  in  earnest,  half  in 
jest. 

He  did  not  condescend  to  turn  to  answer  me. 

"  And  you,  can  you  not  hear  it  ? "  he  said,  with  sup- 
pressed feeling.  "  Can  you  not  see  all  the  persons  live, 
talk,  and  move  in  that  enchanted  atmosphere  ?  Do  you 
not  hear  the  clatter  of  the  golden  dishes,  the  soft  steps  of 
the  domestics,  the  hum  of  conversation,  and,  rising  over 
all  like  a  continuous  bass,  the  voluptuous  strains  of  the 
viol  ?  Ah  !  where  does  a  man  find  inspiration  to  achieve 


THE  MUSEUM  OF   THE  LOUVRE.  129 

a  work  like  that  !  It  makes  one  despair  of  ever  accom- 
plishing anything  beautiful  and  grand  !  " 

He  ceased  and  remained  sunk  in  deep  reflection. 

I  respected  his  abstraction  for  a  time.  Then,  seeing 
that  he  made  no  effort  to  rouse  himself,  I  determined  to 
try  the  effect  of  a  diversion.  I  forced  him  to  rise  and 
make  the  tour  of  the  salon  with  me,  pausing  in  succession 
before  the  canvasses  of  Raphael  and  Correggio,  Andrea 
del  Sarto's  Holy  Family,  Murillo's  Assumption,  and  the 
magnificent  Charles  /.  by  Van  Dyck. 

To  all  these  chefs  a"  ceuvre  Baudouin  gave  a  look  and 
made  a  reverence.  But  soon  he  came  back  to  the 
Wedding  of  Cana. 

The  Duke  of  Ferrara  by  Titien  and  the  canvasses  of 
Philippe  de  Champaigne  detained  him  longer.  Gerard 
Dow's  Dropsical  Woman  occupied  his  attention  for  five 
minutes,  and  I  thought  I  was  really  going  to  win  the  day 
when  I  saw  him  stop  in  protracted  contemplation  before, 
first,  Leonardo  da  Vinci's  Monna  Lisa,  and  afterward  the 
wonderful  Concert  by  Giorgione. 

But  again  he  returned,  as  if  drawn  by  an  invincible 
magnet,  to  the  Wedding  of  Cana.  I  should  be  afraid  to 
say  how  many  times  I  was  an  amused  spectator  of  these 
oscillations,  but  the  performance  was  repeated  at  least 
ten  or  twelve  times. 

"  It  has  become  a  disease  with  you,"  I  said  to  him  at 
last,  laughingly  ;  "  you  must  have  change  of  air." 

He  did  not  object  overmuch  when  I  led  him  away  to 
the  Hall  of  the  Seven  Masters.  But  his  heart  was  in  the 
Salon  Carre,  and  it  was  doubtful  if  he  had  any  very  defi- 
nite perception  of  the  canvasses  that  were  presented  to 
his  view.  It  was  not  until  he  reached  the  great  gallery 
and  found  himself  in  presence  of  Velasquez's  Infanta  and 


I  30  SCHOOLED  Y  DA  YS  IN  FRANCE. 

Watteau's  Embarkation  that  he  found  his  tongue  again. 
Then,  when  we  came  to  where  the  Rubens  collection  was 
displayed,  he  sank  into  another  dumb  ecstasy  of  admiration. 

The  condition  into  which  these  aesthetic  emotions 
plunged  him  was  unlike  anything  I  had  ever  seen  before 
or  was  destined  to  see  after.  As  is  the  case  with  every 
one,  it  has  frequently  happened  me  at  the  Louvre  and  at 
Rome,  Florence,  Naples,  Munich,  Madrid,  to  be  struck  by 
the  beauties  of  a  work  of  art  and  devote  a  long  time  to 
its  inspection  ;  as  with  every  one,  it  has  been  my  privilege 
to  encounter,  either  in  the  museums  or  at  expositions, 
more  or  less  earnest  amateurs  in  raptures  before  a  paint- 
ing ;  I  have  witnessed  many  curious  and  striking  scenes, 
many  comedies  that  were  simply  grotesque.  I  have  seen 
great  critics  take  notes,  wielding  their  pencil  as  if  it  had 
been  a  sceptre,  and  Englishwomen  with  corkscrew  ring- 
lets give  themselves  a  crick  in  the  neck  by  dint  of  gazing 
up  at  a  ceiling  painted  by  a  tyro.  Never,  however,  have 
I  seen  anything  at  all  comparable  to  the  sort  of  mild 
lunacy  that  overcame  my  friend  Baudouin  at  sight  of  all 
those  masterpieces. 

It  was  not  his  moral  nature  alone  that  was  affected,  but 
his  physical  as  well.  There  were  times  when  I  could  see 
him  tremble  with  emotion,  and,  if  he  chanced  to  touch  me 
with  his  hand,  it  almost  burned  me.  He  laughed,  he 
cried,  he  darted  forward,  he  hung  back,  standing  like  one 
in  a  trance. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  in  his  case  there  existed  an 
extraordinary  sensibility  to  artistic  impressions,  and  one 
of  the  chief  functions  of  a  museum  is  to  discover  such 
exceptional  predispositions. 

I  took  advantage  of  his  abstraction  to  turn  him  in  the 
direction  of  the  French  School.  The  profound  tranquil- 


THE   MUSEUM  OF   THE   LOUVRE.  131 

lity  of  the  Lesueurs  appeared  to  exert  a  soothing  influence 
on  his  fever,  and  the  immense  works  of  Lebrun  com- 
pleted the  work  of  restoring  him  to  his  senses.  He  was 
soon  in  a  condition  to  talk  reasonably  on  what  we  had  seen. 

"  Where  could  my  wits  have  been  when  I  hesitated  as 
to  choice  of  a  profession  ?  I  will  be  a  painter,  parbleu ! 
So  that  is  settled." 

"  Good  !  You  say  that  because  we  have  seen  only  the 
pictures  thus  far.  Wait  until  we  come  to  the  antiques." 

"  True !  there  is  the  statuary  ;  I  had  not  thought  of 
that.  Come  on  ;  let  's  go  there  now." 

I  think  Baudouin  would  not  have  been  sorry  to  return 
by  way  of  the  Salon  Carre ;  but  I  felt  I  could  not  trust 
him,  and,  on  leaving  the  Hall  of  the  Seven  Chimneys, 
directed  his  steps  toward  the  collections  of  Grecian  vases 
and  Egyptian  antiquities. 

Steering  a  rapid  course  past  these  seductive  reefs  and 
shoals,  we  came  to  the  northern  staircase  of  the  colonnade, 
descending  which  we  found  ourselves  in  the  basement 
among  the  rooms  devoted  to  Africa  and  Magnesia,  the 
halls  of  Eygptian  and  Assyrian  sculpture,  and  the  collec- 
tions of  Greek  antiquities  from  Asia  Minor. 

His  enthusiasm  increased  with  every  step  he  took. 
Before  we  had  come  to  the  Gladiator  he  had  made  a 
burnt  offering,  one  by  one,  on  the  altar  of  statuary  of 
almost  all  the  gods  of  painting. 

When,  finally,  we  stood  before  this  chef-d'oeuvre,  the 
auto-da-fe  was  consummated.  As  had  happened  on  the 
floor  above,  in  the  Salon  Carre,  Baudouin  would  see 
nothing  else.  It  almost  required  an  exertion  of  force 
to  lead  him  to  the  Psyche,  the  Adonis,  the  Medea,  and 
through  the  corridor  of  Pan  to  the  Roman  rooms  and  the 
collection  of  the  Caesars. 


132  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

But  here,  again,  he  appeared  cold  and  inattentive,  and 
turned  back,  instinctively,  to  the  beautiful  Greek  athlete, 
who  will  remain  for  all  time  the  marvel  of  anatomical 
marvels. 

I  had  my  little  surprise  in  readiness,  and  allowed  myself 
to  be  conducted  toward  the  colossal  Melpomene. 

Turning  suddenly  to  the  left,  I  raised  a  curtain  of  red 
velvet,  and,  at  the  bottom  of  the  sanctuary  that  had  been 
set  apart  for  her,  the  Venus  of  Milo  appeared  to  us  in  her 
divine  loveliness. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  overwhelming  effect  that  the 
sudden  vision  produced  on  Baudouin.  When  I  saw  how 
matters  were  with  him,  I  almost  regretted  that  I  had  sub- 
jected him  to  such  a  shock.  It  was  more  than  admiration 
that  was  depicted  on  his  countenance ;  it  was  something 
bordering  on  terror. 

With  fixed  and  staring  eyes,  his  mouth  wide  open, 
emotion  clutching  at  his  throat,  his  hands  extended  before 
him,  he  remained  for  some  moments  as  motionless  as  the 
statues  in  the  gallery.  Finally,  he  gave  utterance  to  an 
exclamation  that  was  picturesque  by  reason  of  its  very 
triviality  : 

"  Ah  !  this  beats  all !  " 

I  saw  that  this  time  he  was  under  the  influence  of  an 
inspired  delirium,  which  it  behooved  me  to  respect. 

"  Sit  down  there,"  I  said,  pushing  him  down  on  one  of 
the  divans,  "and  admire  her  at  your  leisure." 

Then,  without  another  word,  I  stole  away  and  left  him 
to  his  contemplation.  I  had  heard  my  mother  say  that 
one  who  desires  to  extract  the  utmost  of  pleasure  from 
such  occasions  needs  to  be  alone.  Catalogue  in  hand,  I 
strolled  away  to  the  end  of  the  gallery,  of  which  I  made 
the  tour  with  leisurely  steps. 


*'  THE    VENUS    OF    MILO    APPEARED    BEFORE    THEM." 


THE   MUSEUM  OF   THE   LOUVRE.  135. 

When  I  returned  to  the  shrine  of  the  goddess,  Baudouin, 
as  I  had  anticipated,  had  not  moved.  He  had  remained 
in  the  place  where  I  had  seated  him,  lost,  drowned,  dead 
to  everything  but  his  rapture. 

"  Come !  this  is  enough  for  the  present,"  I  said,  taking 
him  affectionately  by  the  arm.  "  Do  you  know  that  you, 
have  been  sitting  here  nearly  an  hour  ? " 

"  Don't  make  sport  of  me,"  he  said,  passing  his  hand 
across  his  eyes.  "  I-  am  so  happy !  Ah,  is  n't  it  glorious, 
Albert,  is  n't  it  glorious  !  That  is  all  I  can  find  to  say* 
I  have  seen  photographs  and  plaster  copies  without  num- 
ber of  this  divine  original ;  but  how  poor  they  all  are 
beside  the  statue  !  " 

"  Good !  those  are  the  identical  observations  you  were 
making  a  while  ago  in  regard  to  Paul  Veronese's  §reat 
picture  ! " 

"The  Veronese!"  cried  Baudouin;  "indisputably  it 
possesses  motion,  warmth,  life.  It  is  a  magnificent  work, 
adorable,  all  that  a  painting  can  be,  in  fine ;  but  this, 
my  dear  fellow,  it  is  beauty  incarnate,  eternal,  super- 
human !" 

"Well,  you  will  have  opportunities  of  seeing  it  again. 
But  you  want  to  save  a  little  of  your  enthusiasm  for  the 
moderns,  which  we  have  not  inspected  yet." 

"  No  ;  it  is  ended.  I  can  look  at  nothing  more  to-day. 
Let  us  go  away,  please ;  I  am  all  unstrung.  I  feel  as  if  I 
needed  air." 

We  directed  our  steps  toward  the  Champs  -  filyse'es, 
intending  there  to  take  the  Versailles  road  homeward* 
It  was  nearly  four  o'clock,  and  night  was  descending 
rapidly  from  the  December  sky.  The  cold,  keen  air* 
stung  our  faces  and  sent  the  blood  coursing  through  our 
veins  as  we  pursued  our  way. 


136  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

Baudouin  was  in  an  indescribable  state  of  exaltation. 
The  young  fellow,  usually  so  calm  and  self-contained,  was 
no  longer  master  of  himself.  He  took  long  strides,  his 
eyes  flashed,  his  cheeks  were  scarlet,  he  talked  incessantly. 

"  It  is  decided  !  I  will  be  a  sculptor !  Nothing  shall 
prevent  me.  It  is  not  worth  while  to  contend  against 
what  one  feels  to  be  his  vocation,  don't  you  see  ?  There 
is  nothing  else  in  all  the  world  that  I  feel  an  interest  in. 
I  told  you  so  six  years  ago,  don't  you  remember,  when  we 
first  discussed  the  matter  in  our  walks." 

"  Yes,  but  you  also  told  me  that  you  meant  to  select  a 
calling  that  should  not  inflict  further  expense  on  your 
mother,  and  I  have  an  idea  that  there  are  few,  if  any, 
careers  that  are  more  costly  than  the  sculptor's, —  think 
of  th,e  length  of  time  one  has  to  wait  before  any  results 
are  obtained." 

"  I  don't  care !  Don't  talk  to  me  of  such  details.  I 
will  eat  clay  if  necessary,  like  the  savages  of  Terra  del  Fu- 
ego,  or  I  won't  eat  at  all, —  or  I  will  ply  a  trade,  no  matter 
what,  in  the  morning,  that  I  may  model  and  design  at 
night ;  but  the  matter  is  decided,  I  tell  you  ;  I  mean  to  be 
a  sculptor ! " 

Our  conversation  on  this  subject  was  long  drawn  out. 
We  were  as  hot  as  ever  when  we  reached  home,  and  at 
dinner  were  unable  to  converse  on  any  other  theme.  My 
father  listened,  with  a  thoughtful  air. 

"  So,  you  would  be  a  sculptor !  "  he  finally  said  to  Bau- 
douin. "  It  is  a  noble  ambition.  But  for  your  own  and 
your  mother's  welfare,  think  twice  before  embarking  on  so 
perilous  a  venture.  Do  you  know  what  one  of  those 
works  of  bronze  or  marble  that  you  admire  so  represents  ? 
It  represents,  at  the  very  least,  fifteen  or  twenty  years 
of  persevering  study,  privations,  failures  ;  the  defeat  "tof 


THE  MUSEUM  OF   THE   LOUVRE.  137 

thirty  rivals,  the  death  of  ten  others  —  in  one  word,  hell 
on  earth  for  one-half  your  life,  and,  possibly,  a  crust  of 
bread  for  the  other  half.  Ah,  my  lad,  if  you  had  come  in 
contact  with  one  of  those  terrible  existences,  as  it  has 
been  my  lot  to  do  on  one  or  two  occasions,  you  would 
know  something  of  the  trials  and  sufferings  that  precede, 
and  often  accompany  to  the  end,  the  realization  of  a  wish 
like  yours !  " 

Baudouin  entertained  for  my  father  the  deepest  respect, 
united  to  the  warmest  affection.  He  was  dismayed  by 
this  distressing  picture,  and  his  head  fell  forward  on  his 
chest. 

From  this  time  forth,  he  talked  no  more  of  being  a 
sculptor,  but  it  is  my  opinion  that  he  continued  to  think 
of  it  none  the  less. 


CF  THE 


^****         . 

f      \&         O 

(UNIVERSITY; 

Vic    OF-"k 


CHAPTER    XII. 

WINTER    SPORTS. THINGS    TALKED    OF   IN    THE    PLAY- 
GROUND.  A    BEGINNING    OF    REHABILITATION. OF 

THE  DANGER  OF  FENCING  WITHOUT  A  MASK. 

BAUDOUIN'S  presence  at  the  lycee  quickly  produced 
the  beneficial  effect  on  me  that  my  father  had 
expected.  The  influence  of  that  warm  and  generous 
friendship  restored  me  to  my  better  self  again.  The  eve- 
ning at  the  Frangais  had  already  shown  me  how  inane 
and  ridiculous  were  my  literary  pretensions.  Baudouin's 
raillery  cured  me  of  my  aspirations  to  be  a  swell. 

He  was  without  pity  for  Lecachey.  His  jealousy  as- 
sisting, —  for  he  had  seen  at  the  first  glance  who  the  sub- 
stitute was  whom  I  had  nominated  to  fill  his  place  in  his 
absence,  —  he  never  missed  an  opportunity  of  calling  my 
attention  to  the  foibles  and  imperfections  of  my  elegant 
friend. 

But  what  completed  my  cure  was  the  inclination  for 
manly  exercises,  which  I  had  lost  to  some  extent  since  my 
arrival  at  Paris,  and  which  revived  under  Baudouin's  pre- 
cept and  example. )  The  fencing  lesson,  {m  which  he  and 
Verschuren  replaced  the  little  dandy  whose  feeble  wrists 
were  quick  to  tire)  was  the  chief  delight  of  our  day.  Not 
that  our  teacher,  M.  Goudouneix,  favoured  us  with  much 
variety.  The  worthy  man  would  repeat  the  same  thing 
over  and  over  for  an  hour  on  end  : 


WINTER  SPORTS.  139 

"  Come,  monsieur,  on  guard !  You  take  the  foil  in 
the  right  hand,  the  thumb  lying  flat  along  the  handle,  the 
nails  of  the  other  fingers  facing  to  the  left.  Don't  grasp 
the  weapon  with  all  your  strength,  hold  it  lightly  between 
the  thumb  and  index  finger,  the  forearm  flexed,  the  elbow 
against  the  side,  the  shoulder  motionless,  the  wrist  breast 
high  — "\ 

fAnd  so  he  went  on,  in  one  monotonous,  unvarying  tone, 
resuming  his  directions  when  I  resumed  the  movement. 
I  cannot  remember  that  he  ever  introduced  any  variations 
into  his  tune,  or  that  he  ever  added  a  word  to  his  for- 
mula as  he  had  received  it  from  the  provost  in  the  early 
days  of  his  regimental  education.  It  was  evidently  con- 
nected indissolubly  in  his  mind  with  the  theory  and  prac- 
tice of  fencing,  and  he  considered  it  impossible  to  give  Or 
receive  a  thrust  without  the  mental  accompaniment  of 
that  string  of  words. 

And  then  there  were  the  time-worn  forms  of  speech, 
that  he  regarded  at  the  same  time  as  the  essence  of  fenc- 
ing, and  the  supreme  expression  of  French  courtesy. 
With  what  gravity  he  would  teach  us  to  say : 

"  After  you,  mossieu  \  Excuse  me,  you  first.  Not  I, 
mossieu  !  From  obedience,  then  !  " 

Then  the  sword  lowered,  the  sword  erect,  the  salute  to 
right,  the  salute  to  left,  the  three  little  taps  for  attention, 
pan,  pan,  pan!  and  on  guard -^J 

[But  all  that  was  only  a  prelude  to  what  was,  in  our  eyes, 
the  all  important  business  —  the  assault. 

How  proud  we  were,  when,  our  faces  masked,  and 
breasts  protected  by  the  plastron,  we  were  at  last  permit- 
ted to  take  part  in  the  mimic  combat ! 

"A  hit!" 

"No,  only  on  the  thigh." 


140  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  Messieurs,  you  are  losing  your  guard !  Come  to 
parade,  if  you  please ;  come  to  parade.  You  see  your 
adversary  uncovered,  and  neglect  to  take  advantage  of 
it." 

How  good  we  seemed  to  feel  when  we  came  back  to 
quarters,  with  very  red  faces,  and  our  hearts  thumping 
with  the  excitement  of  the  sham  duel !  J\ 

After  awhile,  our  fencing  and  exercises  in  the  gymna- 
sium ceased  to  satisfy  our  needs.  It  was  agreed  that  a 
portion  of  our  Sundays  should  be  employed  in  cultivating 
our  muscular  development.  As  soon  as  we  had  swallowed 
our  breakfast,  off  we  posted  to  one  of  the  great  museums. 
Then,  after  a  space  of  two  hours  precisely,  neither  more 
nor  less,  devoted  to  the  enjoyment  —  it  was  Baudouin  him- 
self who  had  the  heroism  to  fix  the  limit  —  we  hurried 
away  to  the  garden  of  the  Luxembourg  to  play  at  foot- 
ball. 

We  had  no  difficulty  in  securing  admission  to  one  of  the 
small  open-air  clubs  that  practise  this  charming  sport. 
The  members  were  for  the  most  part  young  mechanics  of 
the  neighbourhood,  in  nowise  of  an  exclusive  disposition. 
Two  or  three  eulogistic  remarks  on  a  well-managed  rush, 
and  a  few  words  indicating  our  interest  in  the  game,  sufficed 
to  break  the  ice ;  this  first  advance  made,  we  were  invited 
to  throw  off  our  coats  and  come  down  into  the  arena. 
That  resulted  in  our  preferring  a  request  to  be  allowed  to 
contribute  our  quota  to  the  weekly  expenses.  In  a  word, 
before  three  weeks  had  rolled  by  we  were  members  in 
good  standing  of  the  "  Swallows,"  one  of  those  clubs  that 
meet  under  the  magnificent  trees  of  the  Luxembourg  to 
enjoy  that  noble  exercise,  and  I  venture  to  say  that  we 
were  not  the  inexpertest  members,  either.  Baudouin,  in 
particular,  soon  acquired  a  merited  reputation  for  the  energy 


WINTER 

and  accuracy  of  his  play,  as  well  as  for  his  unfailing  good 
nature. 

On  the  stroke  of  four  we  would  take  the  Crenelle  omni- 
bus and  go  home  to  eat  our  dinner,  —  with  what  appetite 
it  is  easy  to  imagine. 

We  also  introduced  the  game  in  the  playground  of  the 
lycee,  and  although  certain  of  our  classmates  scouted  it  at 
first,  as  unworthy  of  big  boys  like  us,  it  ultimately  tri- 
umphed over  those  one-sided  notions.  Every  one  soon 
came  to  see  that  there  was  nothing  like  kicking  the  ball 
as  a  remedy  for  cold  toes  in  that  frosty  weather. 

One  of  our  earliest  recruits  was  Payan,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  he  was  one  of  the  game's  most  enthusiastic 
champions. 

"  For  putting  a  man  in  trim  for  three  or  four  hours 
of  differential  calculus,  it  is  ahead  of  everything!"  he 
said. 

All  our  recreation  time  was  not  spent  in  active  sports, 
however.  Often  we  preferred  to  pace  the  leaf  -  strewn 
alleys  and  discuss  the  everlasting  question,  always  full  of 
interest  to  us,  the  choice  of  a  career. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  be  ? "  was  certainly  the  query 
that  was  oftenest  on  our  lips. 

And  nothing  more  natural  when  it  is  considered  that, 
collegians  to-day,  a  few  short  months  will  see  us  launched 
on  life's  stormy  sea.  There  will  be  other  things  to  think 
of  then  than  first  or  second  place,  a  prize  in  Latin  verse 
or  Greek  composition.  The  great  battle  is  about  to  open, 
into  which  it  behooves  him  who  enters  to  go  fully  armed. 
What  are  you  going  to  be  f  The  wonder  is,  not  that  the 
question  was  asked  in  our  familiar  talks,  but  that  it  was 
not  asked  more  frequently.  Is  it  not  the  encl  and  ultimate, 
supreme  conclusion  of  all  our  school  training  ? 


142  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

The  answers,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  were  of  an 
extremely  miscellaneous  nature.  Humanity  did  not  wait 
for  Horace  to  enunciate,  in  immortal  verse,  his  famous 

"  Sunt  qnos  curricula  ..." 

to  provide  us  with  as  infinite  a  variety  of  vocations  as  it 
displays  of  feature  and  disposition.  But  what  remains 
most  deeply  impressed  upon  my  memory  in  those  discus- 
sions, where  so  many  dreams  were  given  momentary  sub- 
stance, so  many  airy  castles  erected  and  demolished,  is  the 
perfect  gravity,  the  sincere  patriotism  displayed  by  all 
of  us. 

True,  each  of  us  had  his  own  personal  preoccupation, 
but  it  must  be  understood  that  the  glory,  might,  and 
grandeur  of  France  occupied  a  place  above  and  beyond  all 
else.  There  was  not  one  of  us  who,  in  aiming  at  success, 
did  not  desire  it  for  the  sake  of  his  family  in  the  first 
place,  and  next  for  the  sake  of  that  larger  family  which  is 
the  fatherland. 

Our  fault  lay,  not  so  much  in  lack  of  ardour  in  our 
aspirations  for  the  future,  as  in  our  inability  to  properly 
adjust  those  aspirations  to  our  strength.  It  is  certain  that 
several  of  our  number  were  seduced  by  the  external  attri- 
butes of  their  chosen  career. 

Molecule,  for  instance,  would  have  done  far  better  to 
try  for  a  position  in  the  administration  of  the  finances  - 
for  which  he  was  particularly  well  qualified  by  reason  of 
his  distinct  handwriting,  his  correctness  at  figures,  and  his 
great  powers  of  application  —  rather  than  to  offend  Minerva 
by  keeping  on  rhyming  and  producing  epic  poems  that  had 
in  them  no  more  poetry  than  a  trial  balance. 

Chavasse  had  indisputably  more  aptitude  for  degustation 
than  for  the  l^cole  des  Chartes,  which  he  proposed  enter- 


WINTER   SPORTS.  143 

ing  on  leaving  the  lycee,  and  he  would  have  had  an  infinitely 
better  chance  of  making  a  name  for  himself  in  deciding  on 
the  relative  merits  of  the  great  cms  of  the  Bordelais  and 
of  Burgundy  than  in  deciphering  palimpsests. 

I  shall  say  nothing  of  those  who  would  fain  be  doctors 
and  yet  gave  almost  no  attention  to  their  physiology  and 
chemistry,  lawyers,  and  totally  neglected  those  incompar- 
able models,  Demosthenes  and  Cicero. 

These  ill-chosen  and  loosely  fitting  vocations  were  in 
sharp  contrast  with  those  that  had  been  selected  after 
mature  deliberation,  as  in  the  case  of  Payan  and  Baudouin, 
for  example.  Of  all  my  old  schoolfellows  it  was  they  who 
were  certainly  the  most  successful ;  most  successful,  I 
mean,  in  filling  the  special  role  they  had  chosen  for  them- 
selves in  society,  and,  looking  back  upon  the  past,  I  can 
attribute  that  success  to  no  other  cause  than  the  generous 
ardour  with  which  from  the  very  beginning  they  applied 
themselves  to  their  task. 

Payan,  who  was  preparing  for  the  Ecole  Polytechnique, 
was  not  one  of  those  who  are  content  to  be  admitted  and 
then  trust  to  the  chances  of  the  examinations  to  determine 
the  career  which  they  are  ultimately  to  pursue.  He  had 
said  to  himself,  /  mean  to  be  an  engineer,  —  the  engineers 
are  those  who  stand  highest  in  the  class,  —  and  had  gone 
to  work  accordingly. 

I  well  remember  the  day,  when,  striding  up  and  down 
the  alleys  of  the  courtyard,  he  opened  his  mind  and  told 
us  of  his  dreams ;  and  now  that  his  noble  ambition  is  real- 
ized, I  cannot  refrain  from  admiring  the  clear  judgment 
and  foresight  that  he  then  exhibited. 

"This,"  he  said,  "is  the  age  of  industry  ;  it  is  its  honour 
and  its  mission.  When  all  the  mountains  shall  have  been 
tunneled,  all  the  isthmuses  pierced,  all  the  marshes  drained 


144  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE.- 

and  made  productive,  all  the  deserts  explored  and  peopled, 
all  the  nations  united  by  one  great  railway  system,  we 
shall  certainly  be  nearer  to  the  golden  age.  But  that  is 
not  what  attracts  me  in  the  engineer's  profession.  What 
I  find  in  it  to  admire  is  the  conflict  constantly  waged 
between  the  spirit  of  mathematics  and  inert  matter,  the 
subjugation  of  the  material  forces,  which  makes  its  power 
the  triumph  of  human  genius.  What  might  and  majesty 
of  intellect  are  represented  in  the  smallest  mechanical 
progress  !  And  the  impulse  that  has  been  given  to  that 
progress  in  the  last  two  or  three  hundred  years  !  The 
engineer  penetrates  the  entrails  of  the  earth  to  wrest  its 
treasures  from  it,  he  bridges  seas,  makes  obedient  servants 
of  the  winds,  and  tames  the  lightning.  His  drills  have 
pierced  the  Saint  Gothard,  and  to-morrow  will  pierce  the 
Himalaya ;  his  ocean  cables  bring  New  York  and  Calcutta 
within  reach  of  the  humblest  Parisian  ;  his  great  steam- 
ships realize  the  enchanted  carpet  of  the  Thousand  and 
One  Nights.  Give  him  a  pig  of  iron,  —  he  will  convert  it 
into  rails  on  which  you  will  ride  without  a  jolt  from  Paris 
to  St.  Petersburg,  cannon  to  defend  your  fireside,  a 
printing-press  to  disseminate  among  the  people  the  won- 
ders of  art  and  the  masterpieces  of  literature.  What  are 
men  to  him,  from  the  lowliest  to  the  mightiest  ?  Agents, 
mere  tools,  who  could  accomplish  nothing  without  him, 
who  are  strong  only  in  his  strength,  and  who,  if  he  should 
disappear,  would  immediately  be  reduced  to  the  level  of 
the  savages  of  Oceanica  !  " 

"  Do  you  know,"  here  exclaimed  Dutheil,  "  that  you  are 
really  eloquent !  You  quite  take  the  conceit  out  of  me, 
whose  humbler  destination  is  the  bar.  Listening  to  you, 
I  should  almost  be  tempted  to  throw  the  toga  to  the  dogs ! 
And  yet,  the  science  of  the  law  is  not  without  a  grandeur 


WINTER   SPORTS.  145 

of  its  own.  Everything  in  this  world  is  not  reduced  to 
the  mere  question  of  material  interest  and  the  triumph  of 
brute  strength.  There  is  a  philosophy  of  life  to  be  fath- 
omed and  formulated,  necessary  relations,  as  Montesquieu 
says,  to  be  deduced  from  the  nature  of  things,  the  idea 
of  right  and  justice  to  be  coined  and  put  in  circulation. 
Confess  that  the  r61e  of  the  legist  has  a  notability  of  its 
own,  to  which  you  should  not  let  yourself  be  blinded  by 
your  brilliant  visions." 

"And  the  instructor  of  youth!  "  said  I  ;  "do  you  not 
think  that  his  calling,  too,  is  a  glorious  one  ?  You,  Payan, 
would  subdue  nature ;  but  is  it  not  true  that  she  frequently 
remains  intractable  in  face  of  the  most  heroic  efforts, 
and  in  the  fierce  conflict  is  not  the  engineer  as  often  van- 
quished as  victorious  ?  You,  Dutheil,  speak  of  absolute 
justice.  But,  when  the  legist  descends  from  the  serene 
heights  of  speculation  to  put  his  theories  in  practice,  do 
you  believe  that  he  is  always  the  faithful  servant  of  that 
austere  mistress  ?  Has  he  not  constantly  to  encounter 
impracticabilities  and  conflicting  laws  ?  Ah,  how  much 
finer  and  nobler  appears  to  me  the  r61e  of  the  teacher  in 
his  more  modest  sphere !  His  malleable  material  is  not 
gold  or  iron  ;  it  is  man  himself.  He  models  after  his  own 
image  the  generations  to  come,  that  is  to  say,  the  future 
of  the  nation.  According  to  the  nature  and  the  value  of 
his  teachings,  the  country  will  to-morrow  be  powerful  or 
impotent,  free  or  enslaved,  happy  or  wretched.  He 
prepares  history,  he  moulds  the  minds  of  men,  he 
breathes  into  the  entire  body  of  the  people  the  breath 
of  moral  life.  That  engineer,  the  soldier,  the  legist,  of 
whom  you  speak,  —  it  is  he  who  creates  them ;  but  for 
him  they  would  never  put  off  their  mental  swaddling 
clothes." 


146  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  And  the  artist !  "  Baudouin  broke  in  ;  "  what  have  you 
to  say  of  him  ?  I  suppose  he  does  not  deserve  a  word  of 
mention,  he  who  makes  everything  from  nothing,  who  is 
a  creator  in  the  widest  acceptation  of  the  term  !  How 
little  he  cares  for  your  opinion,  though  !  Practical  affairs 
trouble  him  not,  and  the  interests  of  the  day  and  the 
morrow  are  the  least  of  his  cares.  His  domain  is  the 
infinite,  his  dream  the  absolute.  With  a  stroke  of  his 
powerful  pinion  he  rises  above  humanity,  its  petty  strifes, 
and  miseries,  to  lose  himself  in  the  contemplation  of  eter- 
nal beauty  and  give  expression  to  it  in  his  works." 

On  such  matters  did  we  discourse  without  end,  never 
tiring  of  splintering  lances  in  behalf  each  of  his  favourite 
career.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  however,  that  our 
conversation  did  not  always  assume  this  philosophic  char- 
acter. Our  discussions  were  oftener  on  more  material 
topics, —  examinations,  age  limits,  and  such  matters.  There 
was  no  one  about  the  lycee  better  posted  than  we  were  as 
to  the  regulation  details.  We  knew  how  many  admissions 
each  Iyc6e  had  had  last  year  to  each  school ;  to  what 
choice  his  place  on  the  graduation  list  entitled  one  ;  the 
number  of  vacant  places  there  would  probably  be  at  the 
ensuing  promotion  ;  how  many  merits  were  required  for  a 
given  doctorate,  and  so  forth.  There  were  endless  dis- 
sertations on  the  relative  importance  of  such  and  such 
branches  of  study,  and  anecdotes  innumerable  of  some 
"old  boy  "  whom  the  present  members  of  Montaigne  had 
known  in  their  day,  and  who  was  now  at  the  Polytechnique, 
the  Centrale,  or  Saint -Cyr. 

And  then,  besides,  there  were  devices,  alleged  to  be 
infallible,  and  not  always  quite  reputable,  for  "passing" 
successfully,  traditions  of  bygone  examinations,  and  par- 
ticulars, of  more  or  less  authenticity,  concerning  the  exam- 


WINTER   SPORTS.  147 

iners.  This  one  was  gentle  as  a  lamb,  that  one  was  just 
the  opposite.  There  was  a  certain  M.  Lefebvre,  a  veri- 
table ogre  ;  he  finished  you  off  and  picked  your  bones  at 
a  single  mouthful.  As  well  own  up  deficient  at  once,  when 
one  had  to  do  with  him.  M.  Lefebvre !  I  never  saw  him, 
I  never  had  the  honour  of  being  "  dished  "  by  him,  but  I 
can  say  that  he  often  visited  my  boyish  dreams,  as  the 
image  of  all  that  was  mightiest  and  most  terrible. 

A  question  that  never  failed  to  arouse  our  passions  to  a 
violent  pitch  was  the  relative  position  of  literature  and 
science  to  each  other.  It  was  our  dispute  of  the  ancients 
and  the  moderns.  Dutheil  and  Payan,  particularly,  had 
terrific  encounters  on  this  ground. 

To  take  the  word  of  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  our 
Taupins  for  it,  the  sciences  alone  were  fit  objects  for  the 
occupation  of  a  superior  mind.  Literature  was,  at  best,  a 
harmless  diversion,  a  rather  childish  recreation,  within 
reach  of  ordinary  intellects.  He  would  as  lief  as  not  have 
spoken  disrespectfully  of  Homer  or  Virgil.  In  any  case 
the  fame  of  a  Copernicus  or  a  Lavoisier  appeared  to  him 
infinitely  more  glorious.  But  he  had  an  adversary  who 
gave  him  as  good  as  he  sent. 

In  the  eyes  of  Dutheil,  on  the  other  hand,  the  sciences 
in  general  occupied  a  position  of  only  secondary  impor- 
tance. The  great  monuments  of  human  genius,  histories, 
epics,  the  drama,  and  the  like,  alone  afforded  profitable 
and  interesting  objects  of  study.  Very  unjustly,  as  I 
thought,  he  went  to  an  excess  directly  the  opposite  of  his 
opponent's,  and  pooh-poohed  the  value  of  scientific  dis- 
covery. 

"  What  do  I  care  for  an  invention  more  or  less  ! "  he 
cried.  "  What  is  hidden  to-day  will  be  found  to-morrow. 
The  sciences  are  a  chain  of  logical  deductions  which  are 

UNIVERSITY. 

OF 


148  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

bound  to  flow  from  man's  civilization  and  his  familiarity, 
when  sufficiently  prolonged,  with  his  natural  surroundings. 
Suppose  all  the  sciences  annihilated  in  some  great  cata- 
clysm, —  in  a  few  years,  or,  at  ajl  events,  in  a  few  centuries, 
they  will  be  reconstructed.  Humanity  will  do  as  Blaise 
Pascal  did :  it  will  suffice  it  to  know  the  first  two  or  three 
theorems  to  deduce  the  rest.  That  has  happened  several 
times  ;  it  is  perfectly  certain,  for  instance,  that  the  Egyp- 
tians and  Assyrians  had  as  accurate  a  knowledge  of  geom- 
etry as  you  have.  That  which,  once  it  is  lost,  there  is  no 
regaining,  is  the  writings  of  a  Homer,  a  Virgil,  a  Horace  ; 
they  are  the  perfect  expression,  condensed  into  the  space 
of  a  few  pages,  of  the  soul  and  genius  of  a  chosen  race. 
That  expression  you  have  no  other  way  of  knowing  than 
to  possess  the  text,  and  if  you  suppose  the  text  to  have 
perished,  as  in  a  conflagration  like  that  of  the  library  of 
Alexandria,  for  instance,  no  human  effort  can  restore  it." 

"Well,  what  of  it  ?  "  replied  Payan.  , "  Do  you  suppose 
that  if  the  world  should  be  deprived  of  the  Iliad  it  would 
be  the  worse  for  it  ?  The  smallest  improvement  in  the 
valves  of  the  air-pump  is  of  far  greater  importance." 

"  There  is  just  where  you  are  mistaken  !  "  Dutheil  hotly 
rejoined.  "  The  man  who  invents  that  or  any  other  im- 
provement is  certainly  a  useful  member  of  society ;  he 
contributes  to  our  well-being,  and  thus  far  is  entitled  to 
our  gratitude.  But  after  all,  what  is  he  but  a  wheel  in  the 
machine,  a  mechanic  of  superior  attainments,  an  animated 
tool  ?  You  cannot  claim  that  he  is  a  man  of  that  broad 
culture  and  universal  wisdom  which  are  only  to  be  acquired 
by  patient  study  of  the  great  writers.  It  is  not  without 
reason  that  the  pursuits  of  literature  are  given  the  singu- 
larly apt  name  of  the  humanities.  They  alone,  being  the 
mirror  of  eternal  man,  can  serve  to  fashion  complete  men, 


WINTER  SPORTS.  149 

by  impregnating  them  with  the  loftiest  thoughts  formu- 
lated by  the  great  minds  of  all  ages.  Newton,  Copernicus, 
Lavoisier,  and  the  rest,  vast  as  is  the  domain  of  their  re- 
search, are  blind  to  all  save  that  which  is  directly  beneath 
their  eyes.  It  is  reserved  for  a  Homer,  a  Dante,  a  Shakes- 
peare, a  Moliere,  to  soar,  not  above  the  collective  wisdom 
of  their  time  alone,  but  above  the  mass  of  man's  attainments 
of  all  time,  to  perfect  its  synthesis  and  hand  it  down  to 
us,  often  in  a  single  word.  And  that  is  why  I  prefer,  for 
my  part,  until  I  see  reason  to  change  my  mind,  to  live  in 
communion  with  them  rather  than  in  the  intimacy  of  your 
specialists.  Show  me  a  specialist,  and  I  will  show  you  an 
illiberal,  narrow-minded  man." 

"  You  do  well  to  speak  of  limitations !  Compare  the 
domain  of  Newton,  which  is  space,  with  the  domain  of 
Moliere,  which  is  the  household  of  a  Harpagon  or  the 
feeble  intellect  of  a  M.  Purgon  —  " 

"Just  so,  my  dear  fellow,  but  consider  Moliere's  pre- 
science in  painting  so  lifelike  a  portrait  of  you  two  hundred 
years  ago,  in  the  Bourgeois  Gentilhomme.  You  have  but 
to  open  the  book,  if  you  can  spare  the  time  from  your 
beloved  equations,  to  see  in  it  your  specialists,  each  vaunt- 
ing his  own  particular  hobby  and  proclaiming  its  merits 
from  the  housetops  — " 

Nothing  less  than  the  beat  of  the  drum  sufficed  to 
restore  peace  and  bring  these  breezy  discussions  to  an 
end. 

To  the  despair  of  Molecule,  whose  rhymes  seemed  to 
flow  more  copiously  than  ever  after  his  disaster,  I  had 
taken  up  my  studies  again  with  a  determination  to  profit 
by  them  subsequently  to  the  renunciation  of  my  poetic 
ambitions,  and  my  time  at  the  lycee  was  spent  to  better 
advantage  than  during  the  earlier  months.  My  standing 


ISO  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

felt  the  influence  of  this  changed  condition  of  affairs.  But 
I  had  not  yet  succeeded  in  overcoming  my  foolish  pride 
sufficiently  to  hand  in  another  theme  to  the  terrible  M. 
Auger. 

This  affected  me  with  remorseful  feelings  at  times,  and 
prevented  me  from  being  as  happy  as  I  should  by  right 
have  been  with  parents  as  affectionate  as  mine,  a  friend  as 
dear  as  Baudouin,  and  masters  as  distinguished  as  those 
of  the  Lycee  Montaigne. 

But  nobody  is  perfect,  and  I  least  of  all.  My  con- 
founded vanity  was  always  on  the  alert,  ready  to  take 
offence,  and  I  believe  that  my  only  consolation,  when 
thinking  of  the  reception  that  had  been  accorded  to  my 
first  literary  effort,  was  that  Baudouin,  witness  of  my  glory 
at  Chatillon,  had  not  been  witness  of  my  shame  at  Paris. 

An  unlooked-for  incident  occurred  presently  and 
brought  this  absurd  situation  to  an  end. 

We  had  been  given  a  composition  in  Greek,  and 
although  I  had  done  my  best  and  felt  that  I  had  made 
myself  master  of  the  subject,  I  was  not  counting  on  com- 
pliments. It  was  an  agreeable  surprise,  therefore,  when 
M.  Auger,  on  reaching  my  exercise,  which  was  this  time 
numbered  three,  suddenly  said  : 

"  M.  Besnard's  work  is  deserving  of  commendation.  It 
is  clear  and  free  from  redundancy,  it  shows  a  distinct 
understanding  of  the  meaning  of  words,  and  if  the  style 
were  only  a  little  less  diffuse  I  should  not  have  hesitated 
to  mark  it  higher.  I  wonder  why  M.  Besnard,  who  has 
shown  what  he  can  do  when  he  cares  to  try,  hardly  ever 
hands  in  his  exercises  to  be  read.  His  work  to-day  testi- 
fies that  he  could  and  should  aspire  to  a  higher  standing." 

I  blushed  up  to  the  whites  of  my  eyes,  and  made  no 
reply.  But  five  minutes  later  M.  Auger  returned  to  the 


WINTER   SPORTS.  !$! 

charge.  This  time  it  was  in  relation  to  a  disputed  pas- 
sage in  Livy,  taken  from  the  "  Conciones." 

"  Come,  Monsieur  Besnard,  take  the  book,"  said  the 
master.  "  I  am  curious  to  see  what  you  are  capable  of  in 
the  way  of  an  improvised  translation." 

You  may  imagine  that  I  used  my  best  efforts  to  acquit 
myself  of  my  task  satisfactorily.  I  was  so  fortunate  as 
to  succeed,  grasp  the  meaning  of  the  passage,  and  hit  on 
exactly  the  right  words  to  express  it. 

"That  is  really  not  at  all  bad  !  "  remarked  M.  Auger 
when  I  came  to  the  end  of  my  paragraph.  "  You  have 
evidently  had  careful  instruction,  monsieur,  and  I  can  only 
express  my  astonishment  at  the  strange  mystery  with 
which  you  seem  to  surround  yourself  here.  You  should 
not  give  way  to  indolence  as  you  have  been  doing.  Set  to 
work  again,  let  me  have  some  Lege  Qucesos  from  you  —  I 
make  a  formal  demand  for  them." 

There  was  nothing  to  be  said  ;  it  was  a  distinct  rehabili- 
tation. After  an  invitation  expressed  in  such  obliging 
terms  I  clearly  had  not  the  shadow  of  an  excuse  for 
longer  shirking  what  was  plainly  my  duty. 

And  yet  I  know  not  if  my  miserable  false  shame  would 
not  have  deterred  me  from  facing  again  the  terrors  of 
public  criticism  had  not  Baudouin  thrown  himself  into  the 
breach. 

"  M.  Auger  is  perfectly  right,"  he  said  to  me  when  we 
were  let  out  for  recess.  "  Why  don't  you  give  him  exer- 
cises to  read  ? " 

I  tried  to  argue  the  matter  with  him,  to  give  him  to 
understand  that  I  was  holding  myself  in  reserve  for 
weightier  tasks.  But  as  I  did  not  give  him  my  real 
motive,  —  which,  moreover,  was  not  of  a  particularly  con- 
vincing nature,  —  Baudouin  had  no  difficulty  in  demolish- 
ing my  arguments. 


152  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

The  result  of  this  discussion  and  of  an  internal  conflict 
which  lasted  all  one  day  and  a  portion  of  the  night  was 
that  I  finally  arrived  at  the  heroic  resolution  of  again 
tempting  fortune  with  a  Lege  Quceso. 

But  an  accident  that  happened  to  me  about  this  time 
interrupted  the  even  tenor  of  my  existence  and  did  not 
allow  M.  Auger  to  profit  by  the  first-fruits  of  my  repen- 


v_ 

We  were  at  the  fencing  school,  and,  contrary  to  his 
usual  habit,  M.  Goudouneix,  who  was  punctuality  itself, 
had  not  yet  made  his  appearance.  Very  foolishly  Ver- 
schurea  and  I  had  taken  advantage  of  his  absence  to  have 
a  bout  with  the  foils,  unmasked.  It  seemed  to  us  more 
manly  that  way. 

I  was  brisk  and  full  of  life.  Verschuren  had  given 
ground  at  first,  which  had  only  the  effect  of  exciting  me 
the  more.  He  was  making  play  warily,  holding  his  blade 
in  a  line  with  his  body,  and  parrying  with  caution,  careful 
not  to  leave  himself  uncovered. 

/ 

All  at  once  he  attacked  with  such  fury,  just  as  I  was  in 
the  act  of  delivering  a  thrust,  that  his  foil  broke  short  off, 
and  the  fragment  remaining  in  his  hand  grazed  my  neck 
under  the  right  ear.  Baudouin  gave  a  loud  cry  and 
hastened  toward  us. 

"  Stop  !  " 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  said  I. 

At  the  same  moment  I  saw  that  I  was  covered  with 
blood  and  felt  a  sensation  of  warmth  on  my  shoulder. 

"  You  are  hurt  !  "  said  Baudouin,  receiving  me  in  his 
arms. 

A  small  crowd  gathered  round  me.  Verschuren,  horri- 
fied by  what  he  had  done,  gave  his  handkerchief  to  arrest 
the  flow  of  blood.  I  tried  to  reassure  him,  but  the  room 


"  VERSCHUREN  ATTACKED  WITH  SUCH  VIGOUR." 


WINTER  SPORTS.  155 

seemed  to   be  turning  round   and   round,  then   all  grew 
dark  before  me  and  I  lost  consciousness. 

When  I  came  to  my  senses,  I  perceived  that  I  was  be- 
ing carried,  supported  by  the  legs  and  shoulders.  I 
experienced  a  sensation  of  weakness  that  was  not  dis- 
agreeable, and  made  no  attempt  to  open  my  eyes.  I 
heard  the  sound  of  voices  in  discussion.  With  whom  ? 
It  was  a  matter  of  perfect  indifference  to  me.  Then 
stifled  exclamations,  an  ascent  of  a  staircase,  during  which 
it  seemed  to  me  that  my  head  was  down  and  my  heels 
were  in  the  air,  a  transit  that  appeared  as  if  it  would 
never  end,  a  confused  murmur  of  voices.  Then  I  was 
laid  upon  a  bed  that  seemed  deliciously  soft  and  comfort- 
able, and  fell  asleep. 

Something  moist  and  warm,  trickling  over  my  left 
hand,  awoke  me.  I  raised  my  heavy  eyelids. 

I  was  in  a  little  white-curtained  bed,  in  the  infirmary  of 
the  lyce"e. 

"See,  the  poor  dear -is  opening  his  eyes!"  said  a  fa- 
miliar voice  at  my  bedside.  It  was  Aunt  Aubert ;  she 
was  holding  my  hand,  and  it  was  her  tears  that  had  mois- 
tened it. 

I  gave  a  quick  look  round  the  room.  Mamma,  my 
father,  Baudouin,  grandpa,  Verschuren  were  there,  and  in 
the  background  the  principal,  the  proctor,  and  two  on 
three  other  persons.  "  I  must  have  been  asleep  an  awfully 
long  time  for  all  these  people  to  have  time  to  get  here," 
I  thought.  A  stout,  clean-shaven  gentleman,  with  gray 
side-whiskers  closely  trimmed,  leaves  the  group,  and 
comes  toward  my  bed. 

"  Well,  my  lad,"  he  says,  feeling  my  pulse,  "  we  are  n't 
going  to  step  down  and  out  for  a  little  thing  like  this,  are. 


156  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

we?  That  would  be  too  great  a  sorrow  for  mamma. 
Come,  mesdames,  cheer  up;  you  have  no  cause  for 
alarm,"  he  resumed  presently ;  "  a  few  days  will  set  him 
right  again.  The  pulse  is  favourable,  just  enough  fever 
to  show  that  we  have  not  parted  with  our  strength.  The~ 
wound  is  nicely  bandaged ;  there  is  nothing  to  fear  from 
internal  hemorrhage.  If  this  long-legged  youngster  can 
only  content  himself  to  lie  still  in  bed,  all  will  be  well —  " 

"Could  he  not  be  brought  home?  "  my  mother  asked, 
in  a  voice  of  entreaty. 

"  We  will  see  about  that  in  four  or  five  days  from  now," 
the  doctor  replied.  "  For  the  moment,  all  he  requires  is 
quiet,  —  rest  and  quiet.  And  I  don't  know  but  it  would 
be  as  well  if  he  would  go  to  sleep  again  — 

Two  kisses  closed  my  eyes.  I  hear  a  sound  of  foot- 
steps softly  pattering  over  the  carpet,  as  if  a  lot  of  mice 
were  scampering  toward  the  door.  All  the  people  are 
departing,  evidently,  all  save  two  loved  forms,  seated  on 
either  side  the  bed,  of  whose  presence  I  am  dimly  con- 
scious through  my  half-closed  eyes. 

Mamma  and  Aunt  Aubert  had  obtained  permission  to 
remain  with  me.  They  watched  me  by  night,  and  at- 
tended to  my  wants  by  day,  with  a  devotion  that  never 
wearied.  All  day  long  it  was  nothing  but  caresses,  cups 
of  bouillon,  glasses  of  Malaga,  gentle  words,  and  tears  of 
happiness  on  seeing  me  out  of  danger.  No  one  knows, 
until  he  has  passed  through  such  an  experience,  what 
depths  of  tenderness  lie  hidden  in  the  bosom  of  a  mother 
and  an  Aunt  Aubert. 

My  father  came  to  see  me  twice  a  day,  and  Baudouin 
and  Verschuren  never  failed  to  put  in  an  appearance  at 
the  noonday  recess.  I  do  not  remember  ever  having  been 
happier  in  my  life,  than  during  that  brief  period  spent  in 


*>fc? 

XTKIVERSITT) 

WINTER   SPORTS.  157 

the  infirmary  of  the  Lycee  Montaigne.  All  those  atten- 
tions demonstrated  tq  me  so  clearly  the  affection  of  my 
family  and  my  friends  ! 

The  wound,  by  great  good  luck,  was  not  really  serious, 
and  two  weeks  at  Billancourt  completed  my  convales- 
cenceA  It  is  needless  to  say,  however,  what  a  host  of  argu- 
ments the  accident  supplied  to  mamma  and  Aunt  Aubert, 
against  the  dangerous  and  pernicious  practice  of  fencing. 
It  required  the  exercise  of  my  father's  authority  and  my 
own  solemn  promise  never  to  handle  the  foils  again,  with- 
out observing  every  precaution,  before  permission  was 
accorded  me  to  return  to  the  fencing  school. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

A  NEW  PROFESSOR. 

LESS  than  a  week  had  elapsed  since  my  return  to  the 
lyce"e,  when  the  class  in  rhetoric  was  painfully  sur- 
prised one  morning  by  the  important  tidings  with  which 
M.  Auger  prefaced  his  lecture. 

"Gentlemen,  we  meet  to-day  as  professor  and  pupils  for 
the  last  time.  A  decree  of  the  Ministry  has  summoned 
me  to  the  functions  of  Inspector-General  of  Secondary 
Instruction.  My  successor  is  appointed.  He  will  enter 
upon  his  duties  to-morrow  —  " 

A  murmur  rose  from  the  benches.  M.  Auger  contin- 
ued : 

"You  will  admit,  gentlemen,  that  such  a  preferment  is 
not  one  that  a  father  and  husband,  as  I  am,  can  regard 
without  satisfaction.  It  is  the  crowning  of  my  career,  the 
marshal's  baton  of  our  little  educational  army,  and  if  I 
pretended  that  I  was  not  pleased  to  receive  it,  I  should  be 
guilty  of  hypocrisy.  Again,  you  can  understand  that 
after  having  explained  the  beauties  of  Sophocles  and 
Tacitus  in  one  spot,  daily,  for  ten  or  twelve  years,  I  shall 
not  be  altogether  sorry  to  have  a  change  of  scene  and 
labours.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  all,  these  sentiments  are 
dashed  with  a  regretful  feeling.  In  taking  leave  of  a 
class  that  I  have  conducted  almost  half-way  on  its  road,  I 
am  conscious  of  that  pang  which  all  feel  at  the  sundering 


A   NEW  PROFESSOR.  159 

of  old  habits  and  relations,  at  the  abandonment  of  labours 
undertaken  and  hopes  shared  in  common.  I  should  be 
glad,  could  I  remain  with  you  to  the  end  of  the  school 
year,  sharing  to  the  end  your  efforts  and  your  fortunes  at 
the  examinations.  My  superiors  have  decided  otherwise  ; 
there  is  nothing  for  me  but  to  obey.  But  it  will  be  a 
pleasant  thought  for  me  if  I  can  believe  that  among  you 
are  some  who  will  cherish  kindly  memories  of  their  old 
master  — 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  universal  acclamation  of  the 
class. 

"  All !  all !  "  they  shouted,  with  an  enthusiasm  which  I 
participated  in  equally  with  the  rest ;  there  was  no  trace 
left  of  the  hateful  rancour  which  had  too  long  been  fester- 
ing in  my  bosom. 

The  cry  came  from  our  hearts,  with  perfect  spontaneity. 
We  were  not  misled  by  the  superficial  irony  of  the  pro- 
fessor's little  speech,  and,  reading  between  the  lines,  we 
•appreciated  its  genuine  emotion.  For  the  first  time 
we  were  fully  aware  of  the  conquest  he  had  made  of 
our  esteem  and  almost  of  our  affection,  notwithstanding 
his  outspokenness  and  the  occasional  roughness  of  his 
manner. 

But  he  resumed  immediately  : 

"  Come  !  that  is  well,  —  I  thank  you,  gentlemen.  And 
now,  as  we  have  only  two  hours  left,  let  us  try  to  employ 
them  to  advantage." 

He  opened  his  book  and  began  the  exercises  of  the 
day. 

But  the  ferment  into  which  the  great  news  had  thrown 
us  was  not  to  be  so  readily  allayed.  A  sort  of  ground- 
swell  ran  through  the  class,  as  happens  at  sea  after  a  long 
continued  gale.  We  answered  the  master's  direct  questions 


160  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

and  made  a  pretence  of  listening  to  his  explanations,  but 
all  our  thoughts  were  on  his  coming  departure. 

From  the  four  corners  of  the  room,  and  almost  simul- 
taneously, notes  were  started  on  their  journey  to  Dutheil, 
urging  him  to  present  the  adieux  of  the  class  to  our  pro- 
fessor on  the  occasion  of  our  parting. 

In  his  capacity  as  dean  of  the  veterans  and  tenant  in 
perpetuity  of  the  bench  of  honour,  he  could  not  well  refuse 
to  comply  with  our  request,  and  he  nodded  his  head  in 
token  of  acceptance.  We  saw  him  during  the  remainder 
of  the  hour  taking  notes  and  jotting  down  brief  sentences, 
—  furbishing  up  his  arms,  so  to  speak,  —  occasionally  run- 
ning his  big,  strong  hand  through  his  rumpled  hair  the 
while. 

At  last  the  hour  struck.  The  roll  of  the  drum  reechoed 
through  the  corridors.  Dutheil,  signing  to  us  to  remain 
in  our  places,  immediately  rose  and  addressed  M.  Auger. 

His  little  speech  was  brief,  a  little  hyperbolical,  perhaps, 
but  it  expressed  felicitously  the  sentiments  of  the  entire 
class.  At  two  or  three  points  it  was  endorsed  by  our 
unanimous  applause. 

M.  Auger  was  evidently  deeply  moved.  He  came  down 
from  his  rostrum  and  "  embraced  us  all'  in  the  person  of 
Dutheil,"  as  he  affectionately  said,  adding,  almost  immedi- 
ately, with  his  bantering  air  : 

"  It  is  my  adieu  of  Fontainebleau." 

All  was  over.  We  sorrowfully  left  the  class-room.  M. 
Auger  was  no  longer  our  professor. 

An  event  of  such  magnitude  naturally  furnished  food 
for  conversation  during  the  remainder  of  the  day.  There 
was  a  lesson  in  history  for  the  afternoon,  and  the  coming 
of  the  new  professor  was  set  down  for  the  following 
morning. 


A    NEW  PROFESSOR.  l6l 

What  would  he  be  like,  that  interloper  ?  Not  his  equal 
in  brains  and  learning,  that  was  a  sure  thing.  He  was  not 
the  man  to  explain  Tacitus  as  our  old  master  had  done,  we 
knew  that  beforehand.  And  Greek  ?  Oh,  yes  !  he  would 
possess  as  much  Greek  as  he  did  —  maybe !  And  phi- 
lology ;  a  fine  figure  he  would  cut  lecturing  on  philology 
from  M.  Auger's  chair.  Ah,  we  hated  him  before  we  had 
seen  him  !  We  were  all  ready  to  analyze  him,  dissect  him, 
not  receive  his  theories  unless  he  gave  us  chapter  and 
verse  for  them. 

It  was  not  seventy -five  lyceans,  it  was  seventy -five 
inflexible  and  merciless  judges  who  marched  in  next  morn- 
ing and  seated  themselves  on  the  benches  of  the  rhetoric 
class. 

The  new  professor,  his  cap  drawn  down  over  his  eyes 
and  his  nose  buried  in  his  papers,  appeared  to  be  deeply 
occupied.  Aha !  timid,  too,  is  he  ?  All  that  could  be  seen 
of  his  face  was  a  huge  pair  of  jet-black  side- whiskers  that 
floated  down  upon  his  shoulders,  and  they,  of  course,  did 
not  give  us  much  information  about  the  man. 

Perceiving,  suddenly,  that  the  benches  were  all  filled,  he 
raised  his  head  and  took  off  his  cap. 

Wonder  of  wonders  !  it  was  M.  Pellerin. 

The  effect  was  theatrical,  so  entirely  unexpected  was  it. 
My  delight  was  such  that  it  took  away  my  breath.  I  could 
hardly  believe  the  evidence  of  my  eyes. 

And  yet  there  was  no  room  for  doubt.  M.  Pellerin  had 
changed  somewhat  in  the  four  years  since  I  saw  him  last. 
He  was  maturer,  stronger,  stouter,  more  developed  in 
every  way  than  my  recollection  depicted  him  to  me.  But 
it  was  he,  with  his  kindly  honest  face,  so  frank  and  at  the 
same  time  so  intelligent,  his  bright  eyes,  his  neatly  brushed 
hair,  the  repose  and  distinction  of  his  bearing. 


1 62  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

I  instinctively  turned  and  looked  at  Baudouin,  whose 
bench  was  in  the  second  row  from  mine.  I  could  see  that 
he  was  no  less  surprised  and  delighted  than  myself. 

But  hush  !  the  master  is  about  to  speak. 

His  address  is  very  brief,  amounting  to  nothing  scarcely, 
—  only  a  few  words  to  tell  us  that  he  appreciated  the 
difficulty  of  the  task  that  lies  before  him.  He  knows  and 
prizes  at  its  real  value  M.  Auger's  profound  learning,  the 
sureness  and  elegance  of  his  methods,  the  charm  of  his 
teaching.  Certainly,  he  cannot  hope  to  equal  such  a 
model,  or  even  to  approach  it.  All  he  can  say  is  that  he 
will  spare  no  efforts  to  be  of  service  to  us  in  accordance 
with  the  measure  of  his  powers,  and,  if  he  cannot  make  us 
forget  the  incomparable  master  whom  we  have  lost,  at 
least  endeavour  to  supply  his  place  in  the  more  essential 
particulars. 

All  which  is  said  very  simply  and  unaffectedly,  in  a  low 
but  firm  voice,  underneath  which  we  think  we  detect  the 
presence  of  a  not  too  assertive  authority. 

Glancing  around  the  class,  I  could  see  that  it  was  pleased 
with  this  prologue  to  the  play.  In  eulogizing  M.  Auger, 
M.  Pellerin  had  gone  straight  to  the  mark,  had  touched  us 
all  in  a  tender  spot.  The  charm  of  a  pair  of  frank,  pene- 
trating eyes  had  done  the  rest.  Youthful  affections  and 
respect  are  easily  gained  if  one  only  knows  how  to  go 
about  it.  It  was  clear  that  all  our  hearts  were  already 
enlisted  in  his  favour. 

Moreover,  his  would  not  have  been  a  happy  lot  who 
should  have  attempted  to  resist.  Baudouin  and  I  were  on 
our  mettle,  like  a  pair  of  fighting  cocks.  I  verily  believe 
that,  had  any  one  been  so  imprudent  as  to  hazard  an  injuri- 
ous reflection,  we  should  have  taken  him  by  the  throat  and 
shaken  him  within  an  inch  of  his  life.  But  there  was 


A    NEW  PROFESSOR.  163 

nothing  of  the  sort.  All  hands  were  under  the  influence 
of  the  spell. 

The  recitation  began.  At  that  moment  M.  Pellerin, 
running  his  eyes  over  the  class,  recognized  me.  I  gave 
him  a  little  nod  of  the  head,  and  the  friendly  manner  in 
which  he  received  it  encouraged  me  to  indicate  Baudouin's 
presence  by  a  glance  from  the  corner  of  my  eye.  An 
expression  of  deep  pleasure  immediately  overspread  his 
face,  and  I  thought  I  could  see  that  it  cost  him  an  effort 
to  preserve  his  dignity.  He  succeeded  in  doing  so,  how- 
ever. 

After  the  lessons  came  the  correction  of  the  theme  of 
the  day.  This  was  an  ode  of  Pindar,  that  M.  Auger  had 
given  us  to  translate.  None  of  us  had  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing a  very  creditable  version,  for  it  was  terribly  involved 
and  difficult. 

M.  Pellerin  began  by  giving  us  a  literal  translation  of 
the  ode,  which  he  did  with  a  facility  and  grace  that  at  once 
enlightened  the  class  as  to  the  extent  of  his  acquaintance 
with  Greek.  Then,  in  the  most  natural  and  unaffected 
manner,  he  proceeded  to  embroider  his  theme  with  all 
sorts  of  historical  details  of  the  freshest  and  most  entranc- 
ing interest.  It  was  plain  that  not  only  was  he  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  language  in  its  origin  and  all  its  prin- 
ciples, but  that  he  loved  it  passionately  and  had  made  a 
special  study  of  everything  connected  with  it.  Monu- 
ments and  costumes  of  ancient  Greece,  its  mythology, 
ethnology,  philosophy,  and  art,  nay,  even  the  aspect  of  its 
landscapes,  all  fell  from  his  lips  with  such  profusion  of 
detail  and  wealth  of  colouring  that  we  might  have  imagined 
ourselves  carried  back  to  the  time  of  the  poet. 

The  class  listened  delightedly.  I  think  it  would  have 
required  little  to  elicit  an  outburst  of  applause  from  us. 


1 64  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

I  could  see  plainly  that,  from  that  time  forth,  M.  Pellerin 
was  master  of  his  audience.  After  he  had  dictated  to  us 
another  Greek  version,  he  made  a  still  further  advance  in 
our  admiration  by  explaining  to  us  a  chapter  of  Tacitus  as 
M.  Auger  himself  could  not  have  done ;  for  our  old  mas- 
ter's erudition,  as  we  presently  began  to  see,  had  not  quite 
kept  abreast  with  the  results  of  modern  criticism. 

The  recitation  came  to  an  end.  As  we  were  rising  to 
leave  the  room,  M.  Pellerin  beckoned  to  Baudouin  and  me 
to  come  to  him.  We  had  only  been  waiting  for  the  signal, 
and  should  have  thrown  ourselves  into  his  arms  if  such  a 
demonstration,  at  such  a  time  and  place,  had  not  been 
entirely  contrary  to  scholastic  decorum. 

"  To  what  good  fortune  am  I  indebted  for  meeting  you 
here  again  ? "  our  professor  asked. 

We  explained  to  him  briefly  the  situation  of  affairs  with 
us.  He,  in  turn,  informed  us  that  he  had  returned  from 
Greece  about  four  months  previously;  the  success  of  a 
pamphlet,  which  he  had  presented  to  the  Academy  of 
Inscriptions,  on  the  recent  excavations  in  the  vicinity  of 
Olympia,  had  resulted  in  his  appointment  to  the  Lycee 
Montaigne. 

"  It  was  a  tremendous  honour,"  he  said,  in  conclusion, 
"  and  I  was  almost  ashamed  to  accept  it ;  but  I  shall  do 
my  best  to  deserve  it  by  dint  of  attention  and  hard  work. 
I  was  a  little  surprised  not  to  see  you  on  the  bench  of 
honour,"  he  added,  giving  me  a  look ;  "  that  is  a  matter  that 
must  be  changed  now  that  I  am  consul  ;  we  will  talk  of  it 
hereafter.  Go,  now,  and  rejoin  your  comrades." 

He  dismissed  us  with  a  cordial  shake  of  the  hand. 

In  the  playground  the  excitement  was  extreme.  The 
merits  of  the  new  professor  were  eagerly  discussed  ;  and 
Dutheil,  who  had  been  one  of  the  loudest  in  his  expres- 


A   NEW  PROFESSOR.  165 

sions  of  regret  for  M.  Auger's  departure,  was  already  the 
most  enthusiastic  in  his  admiration  of  M.  Pellerin. 

"  You  know  him,  do  you  ?  "  he  said  to  me  when  I  came 
on  the  ground. 

I  gave  him  all  the  particulars  that  I  had  at  command  in 
relation  to  our  dear  friend  and  master.  His  astonishment 
increased  when  he  learned  that  M.  Pellerin  had  been  head 
usher  in  a  country  academy  and  was  not  even  a  graduate 
of  the  Normal  School. 

"Well,  well!"  he  cried;  "his  energy  and  intelligence 
must  be  something  that  we  don't  see  the  like  of  every 
day !  " 

I  did  not  attempt  to  controvert  his  opinion. 

Baudouin  and  I  had  laid  our  plans  to  pay  M.  Pellerin  a 
visit  at  his  abode  on  the  following  Sunday,  and  we  were 
anticipating  great  enjoyment  from  our  project.  My  father, 
to  whom  I  had  written  without  delay,  announcing  the 
great  news,  had  a  still  more  agreeable  surprise  in  store 
for  us. 

"  Whom  do  you  think  we  are  to  have  to  dine  with  us 
this  evening  ?  "  he  asked,  when  he  came  to  take  us  from 
the  lycee. 

We  looked  at  him,  interrogatively. 

"  M.  Pellerin.  I  called  on  him  yesterday,  and  he  was 
so  kind  as  to  accept  my  invitation.  He  asked  me  to  say 
to  you  that,  if  you  have  nothing  better  to  do,  he  would  be 
pleased  if  you  would  look  in  on  him  this  afternoon  at  five 
o'clock,  and  bring  him  to  the  house  with  you." 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  we  accepted  with 
alacrity. 

M.  Pellerin  lived  in  the  Avenue  des  Ternes,  where  he 
had  a  small  apartment  of  five  rooms  into  which  we  were 
ushered  by  a  pleasant-faced  old  woman,  his  only  domestic. 


1 66  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

The  place  was  as  unpretending  as  possible,  but  a  single 
glance  on  entering  showed  it  to  be  the  abode  of  a  man  of 
refinement.  Mouldings  of  some  of  the  finest  metopes  in 
the  museum  of  Athens,  some  fragments  of  antique  mar- 
bles, two  or  three  good  etchings,  and  a  charming  Gallo- 
Roman  lamp  gave  to  the  antechamber,  even,  the  appearance 
of  a  little  sanctuary.  The  study,  which  also  served  as  a 
parlour,  had  a  good  Smyrna  carpet  on  its  floor,  a  great  desk, 
and  a  few  easy  chairs  ;  the  walls  were  hidden  by  shelves 
loaded  with  rows  of  books,  while  over  the  mantelpiece,  the 
space  usually  filled  by  a  mirror  was  occupied  by  a  great 
triptych  of  the  school  of  Bologna.  Curtains  of  cheerful 
hues,  a  balcony  filled  with  flowers,  small  tables  strewn  with 
souvenirs  of  travel,  albums,  sketches,  and  photographs, 
contributed  to  give  the  apartment  an  attractive  and  home- 
like appearance. 

All  these  details  were  interesting,  but  what  interested 
us  still  more  was  to  find  M.  Pellerin,  our  master  and  our 
hero,  in  working  costume,  to  wit :  jacket  of  soft  blue  cotton 
cloth,  gray  trousers  coming  down  over  the  foot,  slippers, 
and,  who  would  have  believed  it !  a  long  pipe  in  his  mouth. 
What  would  the  rhetoric  class  of  the  Lycee  Montaigne 
have  given  for  a  sight  of  its  professor  in  private  life  ! 

We  appreciated  our  privilege,  and  were  so  affected  that 
we  were  hardly  able  to  converse.  But  M.  Pellerin  quickly 
put  us  at  ease  and  showed  himself  the  genial  companion 
of  other  days. 

"  I  do  not  ask  you  to  smoke  a  cigarette  with  me,"  he 
laughingly  said,  "  although  my  Turkish  tobacco  is  as  good 
as  can  be  found  anywhere.  You  know  my  belief  :  to  allow 
young  men  to  smoke  before  they  have  attained  their 
growth  is  actually  criminal.  It  is  indisputable  that  tobacco, 
like  all  narcotics,  arrests  physical  development ;  it  is  largely 


"  M.    PELLERIN    QUICKLY    PUT    US    AT    OUR    EASE." 


UNIVERSITY 


A    NEW  PROFESSOR.  169 

to  its  deleterious  influence  that  we  may  attribute  the 
yearly  decrease  in  average  stature  certified  to  by  the 
recruiting  boards.  A  celebrated  physiologist  with  whom 
I  crossed  from  the  Piraeus  to  Alexandria  remarked  to  me, 
'  The  European  nations  will  have  shrunk  to  the  stature  of 
the  Laplanders  before  a  hundred  years  are  out  if  they  con- 
tinue to  let  their  children  smoke  before  reaching  maturity.' 
You  are  looking  at  that  paper-weight,"  M.  Pellerin  went 
on,  observing  Baudouin's  eyes  fixed  on  the  desk.  "  It  is  the 
foot  of  an  antique  statue  that  I  bought  from  a  fisherman 
of  Chios  for  three  drachmae.  Wonderful,  is  n't  it  ?  But 
speaking  of  statues,  do  you  still  continue  to  model  ? " 

"  Not  so  much  as  I  could  wish." 

"  That  is  a  pity,  for  unless  I  am  greatly  mistaken  there 
is  where  your  true  vocation  lies." 

"What,  monsieur!"  Baudouin  eagerly  asked,  "is  it 
your  opinion  that  when  one  feels  an  attraction  for  a  par- 
ticular calling  he  should  embrace  it,  regardless  of  whatever 
obstacles  may  stand  in  his  way?" 

"  Undoubtedly.  It  is  a  sacred  duty,  almost,  not  only 
toward  oneself,  but  toward  one's  country.  But  under- 
stand me  :  the  vocation  must  be  genuine,  it  must  rest  on 
substantial  facts,  not  on  futile  dreams,  and  the  candidate 
should  be  in  position  to  prove  its  reality  to  others  as  well 
as  to  himself.  He  may  also  have  imperious  duties,  an 
infirm  father  or  a  family  dependent  on  him  for  support ;  in 
that  case  he  would  not  be  justified  in  so  tying  his  hands 
as  to  disqualify  him  from  availing  himself  of  any  excep- 
tional chances  that  might  offer.  But,  with  this  rare 
exception,  assuming  that  there  is  a  special,  definite  func- 
tion for  which  he  is  better  adapted  than  for  any  other,  I 
say  that  it  is  his  duty  to  bend  his  efforts  in  that  direction, 
and  the  duty  of  those  around  him  to  assist  him." 


SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"And  you  would  advise  me,"  Baudouin  continued,  in  a 
voice  that  trembled  with  emotion,  "to. give  my  attention 
to  art  in  preference  to  any  other  occupation  ? " 

"  Certainly,  if  you  feel  the  vocation  and  if,  as  I  believe, 
you  have  the  strength  and  courage  for  the  conflict.  You 
had  best  give  me  some  of  your  designs  and  attempts  at 
sculpture  so  that  I  may  show  them  to  competent  judges  ; 
I  will  let  you  know  what  they  think  of  them.  But  will 
you  excuse  me  if  I  retire  to  my  room  and  dress  ? " 

M.  Pellerin  was  soon  ready,  and,  descending  the  Champs- 
Elysees  on  foot  together,  we  struck  into  the  Billancourt 
road. 

"  Well !  "  he  said,  as  soon  as  we  were  fairly  under  way, 
"let 'shave  a  little  talk  about  your  affairs.  You  are  not 
altogether  satisfied  with  your  standing  in  the  lycee,  and 
are  not  quite  as  successful  in  your  compositions  in  Latin 
prose  and  verse  as  you  once  were  —  is  that  so  ?  Ah,  you 
have  foemen  worthy  of  your  steel !  The  class  is  not  an 
exceptionally  bright  one,  taken  as  a  whole,  but  some  of  its 
members  are  hard  ones  to  compete  with.  Come,  put  your 
hands  on  your  hearts  and  tell  me  this  :  have  you  been 
working  industriously  since  the  beginning  of  the  year  ? " 

"  I  only  came  to  the  Lycee  Montaigne  a  month  ago/* 
observed  Baudouin. 

"  I  know  that ;  I  was  speaking  more  particularly  to 
Besnard." 

"Faith,"  I  replied,  "I  am  afraid  it  would  be  too  much 
like  a  fib  if  I  were  to  say  yes.  But  it  is  so  discouraging 
to  come  up  from  the  province,  where  one  had  always  been 
accustomed  to  be  among  the  first  of  the  class,  and  find 
oneself  sent  down  to  the  centre !  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  acquainted  with  that  sensation ;  it  is  not 
pleasant.  But  there  is  something  that  should  be  even  yet 


A   NEW  PROFESSOR.  I /I 

more  hateful  to  you,  and  that  is  to  remain  content  with 
that  inferior  rank." 

"  Believe  me,  monsieur,  nothing  would  please  me  better 
than  to  leave  it  for  a  higher  ;  but  what  am  I  to  do  ? " 

"  What  are  you  to  do  ?  It  is  perfectly  simple.  Re- 
member Newton's  answer  to  the  lady  who  asked  him  how 
he  came  to  discover  the  law  of  gravitation  :  « By  think- 
ing of  it,'  he  said.  Well,  when  you  give  yourself  a 
problem  which,  I  think  you  will  admit,  is  considerably 
less  difficult,  that  of  being  first  in  Latin  composition  or  in 
history,  the  way  to  solve  it  is  very  much  the  same, — you 
must  think  of  it !  " 

"  But  I  do  think  of  it  ;  I  think  of  nothing  else  from 
morning  till  night,  and  yet  — 

"  The  trouble  is  that  you  don't  think  in  the  right  way. 
It  is  not  enough  to  say  to  yourself,  <  I  should  like  to  be 
first,'  although  the  aspiration  in  itself  is  perfectly  legiti- 
mate. What  you  want  above  all  to  keep  asking  yourself 
is,  '  How  can  I  get  to  be  first  ? ' ' 

"  Yes,  but  the  answer  is  hard  to  find." 

"  Not  at  all.  Ask  yourself  why  you  were  first  in  Latin 
composition  at  Chatillon." 

"  Because  I  committed  fewer  barbarisms  and  solecisms 
than  my  comrades." 

"  Very  good.  Do  you  commit  more  barbarisms  and 
solecisms  at  Paris  than  you  did  at  Chatillon  ?" 

"  I  flatter  myself  that  I  do  not." 

"  Do  you  commit  more  than,  say,  Dutheil  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  think  so.  M.  Auger  himself  did  me  the 
justice  to  acknowledge  that  I  write  Latin  correctly." 

"  Good.  You  write  as  correctly  as  the  others,  and  yet 
you  are  not  first.  It  must  be,  therefore,  that  at  Mon- 
taigne it  is  not  a  question  of  not  committing  solecisms 


1/2  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

and  barbarisms,  —  and  there  are  twenty  students  in  the 
class  who  don't, —  but  of  expressing  oneself  more  elegantly 
than  the  others,  of  saying  in  appropriate  language  things 
that  command  attention." 

"  Of  course." 

"  Well,  there  you  have  the  whole  secret.  Writing  the 
Latin  of  the  Augustan  age." 

"  That  is  easier  said  than  done !  "  said  I,  with  a  laugh. 

"  Why  so  ?  Who  is  the  most  elegant  writer  of  Latin 
prose,  in  your  opinion  ?  " 

I  reflected  a  moment,  then  doubtfully  suggested  : 

"  Cicero,  in  his  <  Letters  ? '  " 

"  Your  taste  is  not  so  bad  !  Well,  write  like  Cicero  ; 
you  will  be  sure  you  are  on  the  right  track  then." 

"  But  how  am  I  to  do  it,  I  ask  again  ?  " 

"  Simply  by  reading  and  re-reading  Cicero's  '  Letters,' 
noting  and  carefully  remembering  his  style  of  writing,  his 
chosen  expressions,  his  turns  of  thought,  the  words  he 
avoids  using,  the  characteristic  locutions  that  you  find 
recurring  constantly  in  his  works.  Little  by  little  these 
details  will  become  familiar  to  you  to  the  extent  that  they 
will  become  incorporated  with  your  mental  structure. 
Correct  phrasing  in  Latin  will  also  serve  to  give  your 
ideas  a  Latin  bent.  Your  style  will  be  benefited  by 
becoming  broader  and  more  stately,  and  in  a  sense  more 
authentic.  You  will  accustom  yourself  to  think  in  Cice- 
ronian Latin,  which  is  the  great  desideratum.  And  then, 
according  as  you  shall  have  brought  more  or  less  intelli- 
gence and  ardour  to  this  preparatory  process,  the  result 
will  be  good  or  indifferent,  but  in  any  event,  so  far  as 
Latinity  goes,  it  cannot  fail  to  be  superior  to  the  style  that 
you  have  involved  from  your  own  inner  consciousness." 

"But  what  you  suggest  is  simply  a  labour  of  imitation." 


A   NEW  PROFESSOR.  173 

"  Yes,  so  far  as  form  is  concerned.  Would  you  aspire 
to  invent  a  new  Latin  language  better  than  Cicero's  ? 
What  can  you  do  better  than  follow  in  his  footsteps  ? 
Ask  Baudouin  how  he  learned  to  draw  ;  by  copying  from 
the  best  models,  he  will  tell  you." 

The  scales  dropped  from  my  eyes.  I  began  to  have 
glimpses  of  the  light. 

"What  I  have  been  saying,"  M.  Pellerin  went  on, 
"  relates  only  to  style,  and  style  is  not  everything.  There 
is  the  matter  of  the  composition,  its  fundamental  woof  to 
be  created,  or  rather  to  be  arranged,  since  you  are  fur- 
nished with  the  materials,  and  that,  also,  requires  a  special 
training.  You  should  accustom  yourself  to  analyze  the 
subject  thoroughly,  to  extract  from  it  all  that  it  contains, 
to  infuse  into  it  the  new  elements  that  your  memory 
and  your  imagination  suggest  to  you,  and  it  is  unnecessary 
to  say  that  in  this  respect  you  will  find  your  historical 
studies,  and,  in  fact,  your  reading  of  every  description,  of 
singular  assistance  to  you.  But  style  is  a  matter  of  the 
highest  importance,  do  not  forget  that.  A  theme  well 
written  and  carefully  thought  out  is  never  commonplace." 

M.  Pellerin  had  said  his  say,  and  I  reflected  in  silence 
on  the  counsels  he  had  given  me.  I  promised  myself  to 
turn  them  to  account  at  once.  Thanks  to  this  clue  of 
Ariadne,  I  at  last  saw  a  prospect  of  finding  a  way  out  of 
the  labyrinth  in  which  I  had  been  wandering  for  the  last 
three  months. 

As  for  Baudouin,  he  had  remained  completely  absorbed 
in  the  contemplation  of  what  our  dear  master  had  said  to 
him  concerning  the  choice  of  a  profession.  When  he  saw 
that  we  had  finished  talking  he  made  haste  to  bring  the 
conversation  back  to  the  subject  that  ,  lay  so  near  his 
heart. 

UNIVERSITY 


1/4  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"Monsieur,"  he  asked,  "you  were  saying  a  while  ago 
that  it  is  our  duty  to  follow  our  vocation  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  my  belief.  But  another  thing  that  I  be- 
lieve is  that  we  should  go  to  work  scientifically,  so  to 
speak,  to  find  out  what  that  vocation  is,  and  not  let  it  be 
confounded  with  an  idle  fancy  or  the  caprice  of  a  moment. 
Shall  I  tell  you  what,  in  my  opinion,  is  the  greatest  evil 
that  oppresses  men's  lives  ?  It  is  that  they  do  not  suffi- 
ciently investigate  the  reasons  which  lead  them  to  embrace 
one  career  in  preference  to  another.  It  is  too  often  the 
case  that  chance,  the  merest  accident,  insignificant  details 
of  dress,  a  matter  of  buttons  and  gold  lace,  determine 
their  choice.  What  folly  !  To  enter,  without  proper  con- 
sideration, a  profession  that  one  is  to  follow  for  his  whole 
life !  To  abandon  oneself,  so  to  speak,  to  the  hazard  of 
a  die,  under  circumstances  that  call  for  the  most  mature 
deliberation,  the  most  serious  reflection  !  It  is  deplorable, 
not  only  for  the  individual,  but  for  the  entire  body  of 
society.  For  there  are  few  men  who  are  not  endowed  with 
the  capacity  to  do,  and  do  well,  some  one  particular  thing  ; 
and  the  great  point  for  them,  as  well  as  for  their  neigh- 
bours, is  to  see  that  they  are  given  that  special  work  to  do, 
and  no  other.  On  the  one  hand,  they  will  find  their  re- 
ward in  the  consciousness  of  a  task  well  performed, 
together  with  those  material  advantages  which  always 
spring  from  superiority  in  any  one  branch ;  on  the  other, 
society  will  derive  the  benefit  to  which  it  is  entitled  for  its 
money,  that  of  being  well  served." 

"  That  is  plain  as  day,"  exclaimed  Baudouin. 

"  Is  it  not  ridiculous,"  M.  Pellerin  pursued,  "  to  see  a 
young  man,  who,  at  the  utmost,  is  capable  of  copying  ad- 
dresses, serving  as  lieutenant  in  a  cavalry  regiment !  Or 
another,  who  might  have  made  a  first-class  sailor,  totting 


A    NEW  PROFESSOR.  1/5 

up  columns  of  figures  in  a  banker's  office  ?  The  loss  is 
twofold,  —  the  nation  and  the  individual  both  are  losers. 
I  maintain  that  the  efforts  of  educational  bodies  should  be 
directed  to  ascertaining  the  true  vocation  of  every  child 
and  then  encouraging  him  to  pursue  it.  The  united  ef- 
forts of  the  family,  the  teachers,  and  the  pupil  himself, 
should  be  concentrated  on  that  one  great  purpose." 

"  But  how  will  you  proceed  to  acquaint  yourself  with 
each  one's  specific  apitudes  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  there  is  a  very  simple  way,  one  among  twenty. 
It  is  the  device  of  '  coefficients,'  that  is  employed  in  com- 
petitive examinations  for  the  State  schools.  I  have  often 
wondered  why  this  method  was  so  seldom  utilized." 

"  There  is  something  in  physics  about  the  coefficient  of 
dilatation —  " 

"Well,  the  coefficients  that  I  speak  of  are  of  the  same 
nature,  applied  to  the  intellectual  faculties.  Each  exam- 
ination has  its  own  particular  list  of  topics,  has  it  not,  in 
accordance  with  the  nature  of  the  acquirements  required 
by  each  school  ?  We  will  take  the  list  of  Saint-Cyr  as 
an  example.  The  candidates  are  examined  in  arithmetic, 
geometry,  trigonometry,  mechanics,  geography,  and  many 
other  things  besides.  But  all  the  branches  in  this  list 
are  not  of  the  same  importance  in  the  judges'  eyes ;  the 
weight  that  each  branch  is  to  possess  in  determining  the 
standing  of  the  aspirant  is  fixed  by  what  is  called  its  num- 
ber. History  is  numbered  six,  Latin  translation  five, 
German  three,  drawing  in  India  ink  two,  and  the  various 
other  subjects  at  higher  or  lower  figures.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  candidate  receives,  on  each  subject,  a  mark  cor- 
responding to  his  proficiency.  This  mark,  represented  by 
a  number  of  points,  may  be  very  bad,  from  zero  to  four 
points,  bad,  from  four  to  seven,  middling,  from  seven  to 


176  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

ten, —  and  finally  the  various  degrees  of  excellence,  culmi- 
nating at  twenty.  The  examiners  multiply  the  number  of 
points  obtained  by  the  candidate  in  each  subject  by  the 
corresponding  coefficient,  and  the  product  gives  the  candi- 
date's total  number  of  points,  and  determines  his  standing 
among  his  competitors.  Is  the  working  of  the  system 
clear  to  you  ? " 

"  Perfectly.     But  I  don't  see — " 

"Wait  a  moment.  I  know  what  you  mean, —  we  are 
coming  to  it.  Every  profession  rests  on  the  application 
of  faculties  and  special  attainments,  to  which  is  attributed 
an  importance  of  their  own.  That  being  the  case,  it  is 
the  duty  of  every  one  to  subject  himself  to  frequent  and 
severe  examinations  with  a  view  to  determining  in  what 
direction  it  is  advisable  to  bend  his  energies  while  his  ed- 
ucation is  going  on,  and  to  make  his  choice  in  conformity 
with  the  results  of  such  examinations.  Supposing  his  in- 
clination to  be  for  the  military  career,  he  will  not  decide  to 
try  for  Saint-Cyr,  unless,  in  addition  to  the  indispensable 
physical  qualifications,  he  has  a  fair  chance  of  scoring 
a  respectable  number  of  points  in  trigonometry,  geogra- 
phy, and  German,  all  these  branches  counting  heavily  in 
the  competition,  on  account  of  the  size  of  their  coefficients. 
If  he  is  strong  in  mechanics,  he  will  find  it  to  his  advan- 
tage to  turn  to  the  industrial  professions.  And  if  all  his 
triumphs  are  gained  in  literature  or  history,  instead  of 
vegetating  in  the  rear  ranks  of  a  scientific  career  why  not 
embrace  one  of  the  liberal  professions?" 

"  But,  monsieur,  every  one  cannot  aspire  to  reach  the 
topmost  position  in  his  calling." 

"  If  by  that  you  mean  to  say  that  every  one  cannot 
expect  to  reach  it  you  are  quite  right.  But  I  for  my  part 
can  see  no  reason  why  every  one  should  not  aspire  to  it,  at 


A    NEW  PROFESSOR.  177 

any  rate  at  the  happy  age  when  one  is  beginning  his 
apprenticeship.  The  ambition  to  do  well  that  which  one 
has  to  do  is  a  powerful  incentive  in  the  lives  of  nations  as 
well  as  men.  Do  you  not  think  that  if  all  the  young  men 
who  enter  Saint-Cyr  were  firmly  resolved  to  do  their  level 
best  to  become  generals  of  division,  and  were  convinced 
that  they  could  attain  their  end  only  through  application, 
merit,  and  service  rendered,  the  standard  of  excellence  of 
our  army  would  be  materially  raised  ?  It  is  the  same  with 
all  callings  and  professions.  And  that  is  why  it  is  of 
such  supreme  importance  to  exercise  all  our  caution  and 
wisdom  in  making  our  selection,  and,  once  the  selection 
made,  to  devote  ourselves  soul  and  body  to  making  it  a 
success. " 

M.  Pellerin  had  much  more  to  say  to  us  on  this  inter- 
esting subject,  so  important  a  factor  in  the  future  of 
young  men,  although  the  attention  they  give  it  is  generally 
of  the  most  superficial  description.  Then,  as  we  pursued 
our  way,  our  talk  was  of  Chatillon  and  our  old  comrades. 
One  was  at  the  Naval  School,  another  was  pursuing  his 
legal  or  medical  studies ;  this  one  had  entered  one  of  the 
bureaus  of  the  State  as  supernumerary ;  that  one  had 
gone  into  trade.  Verschuren  was  the  only  one  present 
with  us  at  the  Lycee  Montaigne. 

"  And  Mounerol  ?  "  M.  Pellerin  inquired. 

Mounerol  was  a  former  schoolmate  of  ours  whom  he 
had  once  assisted  to  a  free  scholarship  in  the  lycee  at 
Chatillon, —  a  poor  boy  of  the  streets,  who  had  speedily 
developed  into  one  of  our  most  formidable  rivals. 

1  'Mounerol  took  five  prizes  last  year,  but  I  don't  know 
what  has  become  of  him,"  I  replied.  "There  was  some 
talk  of  keeping  him  at  the  lycee  on  the  chance  of  an 
ushership  becoming  vacant." 


1/8  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"He  is  a  brave  little  fellow,"  said  M.  Pellerin,  "and  is 
certain  to  make  his  mark.  Do  you  remember  what  a 
droll  chap  he  was,  and  how  everybody  in  the  city  called 
him  Criquet  ?  His  good  old  grandfather  is  living  still,  I 
trust  ?  " 

"  Pere  Plaisir  ?  —  livelier  than  ever,  and  immensely 
proud  of  his  boy's  success.  He  still  sells  waffles  at  the 
end  of  the  Cours.  There  is  another  one  who  has  not 
forgotten  you,  monsieur!  The  last  time  I  saw  him  he 
asked  about  you." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

RISE    AND    FALL    OF    THE    SPECTRE  -  STUDENT. 

WITH  M.  Pellerin  as  my  master  and  Baudouin  for 
running  mate  I  was  myself  again  once  more,  and 
buckled  down  to  work  in  earnest.  How  pleasant  my  task 
seemed  to  me  now,  and  how  I  should  have  reproached 
myself  had  I  failed  for  a  single  day  to  prefix  Lege  Quceso 
to  my  exercise !  M.  Pellerin  was  not  indulgent  toward 
my  style,  far  from  it ;  but,  I  know  not  how  it  was,  noth- 
ing coming  from  him  ever  hurt  or  offended  me.  On  the 
contrary,  all  his  observations  were  welcomed,  and  appeared 
to  me  stamped  with  the  hall  mark  of  the  purest  taste. 

I  was  not  long  in  assuming  a  more  respectable  place  in 
the  class  than  during  the  first  trimestre,  and  that  con- 
stituted an  increased  incentive  for  emulation.  I  bade  an 
eternal  farewell  to  idle  loiterings,  desultory  readings,  and 
all  similar  forms  of  dissipation.  Constantly  poring  over 
my  books  and  papers,  not  only  did  I  strive  to  perform  to 
their  satisfaction  the  tasks  assigned  me  by  my  masters, 
but  I  made  it  my  business  to  go  to  the  bottom  of  every 
doubtful  question,  to  overcome  every  difficulty,  and  above 
all  to  have  no  idle  moments  in  my  day. 

One  might  naturally  suppose  that  nobody  had  any  call 
to  interfere  in  such  a  labour  of  reform,  and  that  I  was 
free  to  work  as  hard  and  long  as  I  saw  fit.  However, 
there  was  one  of  my  classmates,  Lecachey,  who  was 


180  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

unable  to  forgive  me  for  my  metamorphosis.     It  assumed 
in  his  eyes  the  proportions  of  a  personal  affront. 

At  first  he  restricted  himself  to  greeting  me  with  his 
stupid  gibes  when  he  saw  that  I  no  longer  sat  near  him 
in  the  class-room  and  was  evidently  at  pains  to  avoid  him 
in  the  fencing  school  and  elsewhere  outside  the  limits  of 
the  school. 

"  Is  it  true  that  you  are  aiming  to  be  a  savant  with  a 
long  name  ending  in  us?"  he  would  say  when  he  suc- 
ceeded in  cornering  me  at  recess.  "That  is  very  ill- 
advised,  my  dear  boy  ;  you  should  leave  it  to  the  pedants," 
etc.,  etc. 

When  finally  he  saw  that  his  inanities  had  no  effect  to 
influence  me,  and  that  I  preferred  M.  Pellerin's  instruction 
and  M.  Aveline's  lectures  to  his  brilliant  conversation,  he 
became  almost  insulting.  I  resented  these  attacks,  and 
soon  we  were,  if  not  totally  estranged,  on  terms  of  decided 
coolness  toward  each  other. 

About  this  time  an  incident  that  had  serious  conse- 
quences occurred  in  the  class  in  mathematics. 

Thomereau,  always  on  the  lookout  for  a  mystification, 
had  conceived  one  of  stupendous  proportions  at  the 
expense  of  M.  Desbans.  His  invention  in  this  instance 
was,  I  must  confess,  extremely  droll,  and  our  dear  master- 
himself  has  often  spoken  of  it  since  as  one  of  the  most 
ingenious  tricks  ever  devised  by  the  fertile  brain  of  the 
mischief-loving  young  rascal  of  a  schoolboy. 

It  consisted  in  creating,  for  the  nonce,  an  imaginary 
student,  Forestons  by  name,  who  came  to  play  a  role  in 
the  class  that  was  absolutely  fantastic. 

The  mechanism  of  the  joke  was  of  the  simplest.  All 
that  Thomereau  had  done  was  to  prepare  for  the  recitation 
an  elementary  problem,  at  the  head  of  which  was  written 


UNIVERSITY 
RISE  AND  FALL  OF  THE  SPECTRE -STUDENT.      l8l 

in  bold  characters  the  name,  Forestons.  The  exercise  was 
collected  with  the  others  at  the  beginning  of  the  recitation 
and  handed  to  M.  Desbans.  At  the  following  lesson  it 
came  back  in  the  professor's  hand-bag  with  annotations 
by  his  hand,  and,  in  common  with  the  other  exercises, 
became  the  object  of  critical  remark.  Forestons,  for 
good  and  sufficient  reasons,  made  no  reply  to  the  master's 
uncomplimentary  observations.  M.  Desbans  passed  on  to 
the  next  paper,  and  the  curtain  fell  on  the  first  act  of  the 
comedy. 

When,  for  the  third  time,  the  invisible  Forestons  pre- 
sented himself  before  the  tribunal  of  the  class,  it  cost  us 
all  a  mighty  effort  to  restrain  our  laughter.  And,  even 
then,  we  succeeded  so  imperfectly  that  M.  Desbans  looked 
at  us  in  amazement. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Baudouin,  who  was  now  taking 
private  lessons  in  mathematics  with  me,  and  shared  my 
affection  for  our  master,  expressed  his  disapproval  of  the 
indecorous  and  too  long  protracted  pleasantry.  All  was 
unavailing. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  that,  while  M.  Desbans  was 
reviewing  the  exercises  one  day,  he  paused  at  the  paper 
of  the  Spectre-student. 

"  Monsieur  Forestons,  your  exercise  is  better  to-day  than 
usual,"  he  said  ;  "  I  should  like  to  be  assured  that  you 
reached  the  solution  of  your  problem  without  assistance. 
Be  so  kind  as  to  go  to  the  blackboard  and  repeat  the 
demonstration." 

Forestons,  naturally,  did  not  comply.  M.  Desbans 
reiterated  his  request. 

"  Forestons  has  just  this  minute  gone  out ! "  said 
Thomereau,  and  a  stifled  laugh  ran  through  the  class. 
The  pleasantry  seemed  to  have  lost  none  of  its  freshness. 


1 82  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"Ah  !  M.  Forestons  has  gone  out,  has  he? "  M.  Desbans 
replied.  "Well,  do  you  go  find  him  for  me." 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  best  course,  undoubtedly, 
would  have  been  for  some  courageous  individual  to  rise  in 
his  place  and  disclose  to  M.  Desbans  the  absurd  mystifica- 
tion in  which  the  whole  class  was  implicated.  But  there 
was  not  one  of  us  dared  do  it. 

Several  minutes  passed,  in  expectancy.  How  would 
Thomereau  manage  to  extricate  himself  from  his  dilemma ? 
Meantime,  we  were  beginning  to  pluck  up  a  little  courage 
and  tell  ourselves  that  M.  Desbans,  with  his  usual  absent- 
mindedness,  would  soon  have  forgotten  his  request,  when, 
all  at  once,  the  door  of  the  room  opened  and  Thomereau 
walked  in;  but  quantum  mutatus !  a  transformed,  trans- 
mogrified, transmuted  Thomereau,  whom  few  of  us 
recognized  at  first. 

His  buffoon  instincts  had  served  him  well,  unhappy 
youth  !  He  had  made  himself  almost  unrecognizable. 
With  a  day-scholar's  overcoat  draped  over  his  tunic,  his 
shirt  collar  pulled  up  on  a  level  with  his  ears,  his  long 
locks  plastered  down  upon  his  forehead  and  temples  by 
liberal  applications  of  water  from  the  pump  in  the  court- 
yard, he  protruded  his  lips  and  stuck  out  his  chin,  wrinkled 
his  nose,  and  squinted  his  eyes.  The  effect  was  at  once 
grotesque  and  horrible.  At  sight  of  him,  a  laugh,  that 
no  one  attempted  to  restrain,  rose  from  the  benches. 

M.  Desbans  suspended  his  demonstration  for  a  moment, 
looked  at  the  new  arrival  with  his  great  introspective  eyes,. 
and  then  resumed  the  thread  of  his  discourse  and  finished 
his  reasoning. 

We  still  continued  to  hope  that  things  would  remain 
where  they  were,  and  that  he  would  forget  his  fancy.  But 
on  this  occasion  his  memory  was  more  tenacious. 


RISE  AND  FALL  OF  THE  SPECTRE  -  STUDENT.      I  83 

"  Well  !  Monsieur  Forestons,"  he  said,  "  have  you 
returned  in  safety  from  your  excursion  ?  Please  go  to 
the  blackboard." 

No  one  was  laughing  now.  Thomereau,  with  a  front  of 
brass,  rose,  descended  the  few  steps  that  lay  between  him 
and  the  board,  and,  still  wearing  his  insufferable  grimace, 
took  his  position  at  the  post  of  danger. 

"  As  I  said  just  now  to  your  comrades,"  M.  Desbans 
resumed,  "  I  have  some  doubts  as  to  the  originality  of 
your  work.  I  think  I  remember  to  have  heard  that  you 
sometimes  received  assistance  from  your  comrades,  and 
I  should  like  to  see  what  you  will  do  with  a  very  elemen- 
tary problem.  Be  so  good  as  to  take  down  the  following 
data." 

Thomereau  took  the  chalk  and  stationed  himself  before 
the  blackboard  in  such  a  way  that  his  face,  while  hidden 
from  the  professor,  was  visible  in  profile  to  us.  He 
affected  to  be  at  ease,  but  it  is  my  opinion  that  he  was 
beginning  to  regret  his  senseless  caper. 

"Ten  students  of  rhetoric,"  M.  Desbans  went  on, 
"write  from  dictation,  during  two  hours  of  detention  in 
the  schoolroom,  a  total  of  three  thousand  six  hundred  and 
sixty  verses.  How  many  verses  will  seventy-five  students, 
writing  with  the  same .  speed  as  the  others,  have  written 
at  the  end  of  four  detentions  of  three  hours  each  ?  You 
see  the  problem  is  a  perfectly  simple  one,  an  example  in 
the  rule  of  three.  I  am  waiting  to  hear  what  you  have  to 
say." 

We,  too,  were  waiting,  and  were  even  beginning  to 
wonder  if  the  peculiar  phraseology  of  the  example  might 
not  indicate  a  menace  directed  against  us.  Thomereau, 
doubtless,  had  the  same  suspicion,  for  the  hand  that  traced 
the  figures  on  the  blackboard  was  far  from  steady.  He 


1 84  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

began,  however,  with  what  confidence  he  might,  in  the 
usual  singsong  formula. 

"  If  ten  students  in  two  hours  write  three  thousand  six 
hundred  and  sixty  verses,"  he  declaimed,  in  a  cavernous 
voice,  "  one  student  will  write  in  two  hours  that  total 
divided  by  ten,  and  in  one  hour  the  quotient  of  this  first 
division  divided  by  two." 

"Very  well  reasoned,  Monsieur  Forestons,"  here  inter- 
jected M.  Desbans.  "  I  see  that  you  have  turned  your 
instruction  in  arithmetic  to  good  account.  Go  on." 

Thomereau,  seeing  matters  assume  such  a  satisfactory 
aspect,  seemed  to  receive  a  new  lease  of  life.  He  raised 
his  voice,  —  in  volume  but  not  in  pitch,  however,  for  it  still 
seemed  to  emanate  from  his  boots,  —  and  continued  : 

"  Having  ascertained  how  many  verses  one  student 
writes  in  an  hour,  a  simple  sum  in  multiplication  will  tell 
us  how  many  seventy-five  students  will  write  in  the  same 
time  :  seventy  -  five  students  writing  at  the  same  rate  of 
speed  during  four  detentions  of  three  hours,  that  is  to  say 
during  twelve  hours,  will  turn  off  twelve  times  more,  that 
is  to  say  the  preceding  product  multiplied  by  twelve  — 

"  Perfect !  "  exclaimed  M.  Desbans.  "  Now  perform 
your  operations  and  let  us  know  the  total." 

Thomereau  proceeded  to  his  divisions  and  multiplica- 
tions, which  consumed  several  minutes.  At  last  he 
pronounced  the  result :  one  hundred  and  sixty-four  thou- 
sand seven  hundred. 

"Very  good,"  remarked  the  professor,  "and  I  am 
delighted  to  find  you  so  proficient  in  the  rule  of  three, 
Monsieur  Forestons.  You  are  from  the  country,  probably  ? 
I  do  not  remember  ever  having  seen  you  before  today  —  " 

Here  the  class  was  utterly  unable  to  hold  in  longer,  and 
gave  way  to  an  explosion  of  boisterous  merriment.  It 


RISE  AND  FALL  OF  THE  SPECTRE- STUDENT.      185 

acted  like  a  lash  on  Thomereau's  congenital  instinct  to  play 
the  clown. 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  he  replied,  in  tones  deeper  and  more 
drawling  than  ever ;  "  I  am  from  Brives-la-Gaillarde,  where 
my  father,  who  fills  the  respectable  position  of  Inspector 
of  Weights  and  Measures,  taught  me  from  earliest  infancy 
to  revere  the  rule  of  three  — 

Our  delight  was  verging  on  delirium,  when  all  at  once 
we  saw  M.  Desbans  rise,  stride  up  to  the  now  thoroughly 
frightened  Thomereau,  seize  him  by  the  collar  and  hustle 
him  to  the  door,  saying,  in  a  distinct  voice : 

"  Very  well,  Monsieur  Forestons  !  you  will  present  your- 
self before  the  proctor  and  tell  him,  with  my  compliments, 
how  you  were  eliminated  from  my  class !  " 

A  funereal  silence  succeeded  this  unexpected  speech. 
We  all  felt  that  we  were,  to  a  certain  extent,  accomplices 
in  Thomereau's  misdeeds  ;  we  saw  how  culpable  we  had 
been  in  abetting  the  mystification  that  had  been  carried  on 
for  two  or  three  weeks  at  the  expense  of  a  good  and 
learned  man.  A  fine  thing  it  was  for  us  to  do,  truly, 
miserable  greenhorns  and  idle  vagabonds  that  we  were,  to 
make  game  of  a  savant  of  M.  Desbans's  distinction  !  But 
his  turn  had  come  now,  and  all  that  remained  for  us  to  do 
was  to  bow  our  heads  to  the  storm. 

"  You  know  me  well  enough  to  know,  young  gentlemen," 
he  said,  turning  and  facing  us,  "  that  I  shall  not  gratify 
you  by  manifesting  vexation  at  so  pitiable  a  pleasantry ; 
there  was  really  neither  wit  nor  daring  in  attempting  it  on 
me,  who  am  wholly  unsuspicious  of  evil  and  devoted  to 
your  instruction.  You  enlisted,  seventy-five  strong,  in  this 
enterprise,  and  I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  congratulate  you 
on  it.  When  you  are  men  and  no  longer  blackguards,  you 
will  better  understand  how  little  glory  there  was  attaching 


1 86  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

to  it.  In  the  meantime,  I  call  your  attention  to  the  fact 
that  you  have  violated  in  my  person  the  respect  you  owe 
your  masters,  and  for  that  I  am  obliged  to  punish  you.  I 
shall  request  the  proctor  to  sentence  the  entire  class,  for 
four  consecutive  Thursdays,  to  three  hours'  detention  in 
its  room,  and  that  will  afford  you  an  opportunity  to  verify 
the  correctness  of  your  comrade's  solution  of  the  problem 
in  rule  of  three." 

Whereon,  M.  Desbans  returned  to  the  blackboard,  took 
the  chalk,  and  with  perfect  serenity  proceeded  to  the  dem- 
onstration of  another  theorem. 

We  looked  at  one  another  in  dismay.  I,  for  my  part, 
was  thoroughly  ashamed  of  having  been  accessory,  even 
by  my  silence,  to  the  ridiculous  business,  and  I  wondered 
how  I  should  dare  show  my  face  in  M.  Desbans's  sanctum 
for  my  private  lesson. 

My  comrades  for  the  most  part  seemed  occupied  with 
other  considerations,  and  until  the  end  of  the  recitation 
the  whispering  among  them  was  continuous.  I  learned 
the  reason  after  the  dismissal  of  the  class. 

"It  is  strange,"  said  some  one,  "that  Tronc  -  de  -  Cone 
should  have  caught  on  to  the  affair  so  quickly." 

"  Parbleu  !  he  has  not  the  sense  to  have  discovered  it 
himself,"  said  a  voice  behind  me  that  I  recognized  as 
Lecachey's.  "  It  was  doubtless  one  of  his  private  pupils 
who  put  a  flea  in  his  ear." 

I  turned  around,  my  face  pale  with  indignation. 

"  Is  that  intended  for  me  ?  "  I  asked. 

He  appeared  a  little  disconcerted,  and  made  answer 
that  I  was  not  M.  Desbans's  only  private  pupil. 

"  I  am,  with  the  exception  of  Baudouin  !  "  I  cried.   ' 

We  had  stopped  a  short  way  from  the  door,  and  a  small 
crowd  had  immediately  gathered  round  us.  The  presence 


"M.    DESBANS    COLLARING    THOMEREAU." 


UNIVERSITY 


RISE  AND  FALL  OF  THE  SPECTRE  -  STUDENT.      189 

of  these  witnesses  acted  as  a  stimulus  to  Lecachey's 
pride. 

"  Faith,  then,  if  you  wish  to  hear  the  truth,"  he  inso- 
lently said,  "  yes,  I  believe  it  was  Baudouin  who  let  the 
cat  out  of  the  bag  — 

Before  he  had  time  to  finish  his  sentence,  I  drew  off  and 
landed  on  his  face  with  as  scientific  a  right  -  hander  as  I 
ever  delivered  in  my  life.  The  mischief  was  done  before 
I  had  even  resolved  to  hit  him.  To  hear  Baudouin  insulted 
by  that  asinine  snob  was  more  than  I  could  bear. 

Lecachey  had  so  little  expected  the  attack  that  he  acted 
as  if  his  wits  had  taken  leave  of  him. 

"  What 's  that  ?  What 's  that?  "  was  all  he  could  enun- 
ciate. 

"  If  you  have  n't  had  enough,  I  have  more  in  readiness 
for  you  !  "  I  shouted  at  him.  "And  if  you  are  not  satis- 
fied after  I  have  had  my  innings,  Baudouin  will  take  his!" 

At  that  moment  the  proctor  made  his  appearance  on 
the  scene  of  conflict.  I  was  dragged  away  from  the  field 
by  my  comrades,  while  Lecachey  was  taken  in  charge  by 
some  of  the  day  scholars.  I  saw  the  proctor  stop  and 
question  him. 

Baudouin  had  remained  behind  to  speak  with  M. 
Desbans, — possibly  of  the  morning's  incidents, — and 
had  no  knowledge  of  what  was  taking  place  outside  the 
class-room.  I  cautioned  my  friends  to  say  nothing  to 
him. 

"  He  would  spoil  Lecachey's  good  looks  if  he  should 
hear  what  the  miserable  little  cad  accuses  him  of.  Bau- 
douin never  attempted  to  conceal  his  disgust  for  Tho- 
mereau's  mystification,  but  as  for  giving  it  away  to 
Tronc  -  de  -  Cone,  never !  I  can  vouch  for  him  as  for 
myself." 


SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

I  was  pleased  to  see  that  there  was  not  one  of  my 
comrades  who  did  not  share  my  opinion  in  this  respect. 
Within  a  few  days  Baudouin  had  become  a  universal 
favourite,  for  no  other  reason  than  the  frankness  and 
uprightness  of  his  character.  My  friends  promised  me 
to  observe  secrecy. 

"  Well,  what  did  the  proctor  say  to  you  ?  "  we  asked,  in 
chorus,  of  Thomereau  when  we  saw  him  next. 

"  The  proctor  ?  Did  you  think  I  was  such  an  idiot  as 
to  present  myself  before  him  ? "  our  little  man  replied,  in 
a  tone  of  triumph.  "  I  just  slipped  in  here,  quietly,  and 
.sat  out  the  recitation,  and  I  '11  bet  that  old  Tronc-de-C6ne 
has  already  forgotten  the  whole  business." 

He  seemed  to  regard  his  idea  as  a  stroke  of  genius. 

"  Tronc-de-C6ne  may  have  forgotten ;  that  is  his  look- 
out!" I  said  to  myself;  "  but  as  for  you,  my  lad,  you 
would  not  take  so  philosophically  the  tremendous  wig- 
ging that  he  gave  you  unless  your  conscience  told 
you  you  deserved  it." 

No  one  would  believe,  looking  at  Thomereau,  that  he 
had  been  the  inglorious  hero  of  so  disreputable  an  adven- 
ture. That  lightness  of  heart  and  thickness  of  the  epi- 
dermis is  doubtless  a  gift  peculiar  to  professional  buffoons. 
I  have  often  noticed  in  the  course  of  my  life  that  no  one 
is  so  quick  as  they  to  recover  from  the  effect  of  the  vari- 
ous, and  not  always  agreeable,  consequences  in  which 
their  mania  for  amusing  themselves  at  their  neighbours' 
expense  is  pretty  certain  to  involve  them. 

The  fellow's  effrontery  was  too  much  for  Baudouin, 
when  he  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  it. 

"  Just  see  the  assurance  of  the  chap  who  had  his  ears 
boxed  so  recently,"  he  said  to  me,  with  unfeigned 
astonishment. 


RISE  AND  FALL  OF  THE  SPECTRE -STUDENT.      igi 

As  for  me,  I  knew  that  no  one  is  apt  to  look  back  with 
pleasure  on  the  part  he  has  borne  in  an  execution  of  this 
nature,  and  that  the  surviving  impression  is  always  a  pain- 
ful one.  But  my  attention  during  recess  was  chiefly  given 
to  keeping  Baudouin  occupied,  in  order  that  no  echo  of 
my  affair  with  Lecachey  might  get  to  his  ears.  The 
behaviour  of  the  class  was  perfect.  No  one  made  the 
least  allusion  to  what  had  occurred  in  the  courtyard. 

But  the  incident  was  not  to  be  allowed  to  drop  in  that 
way,  unfortunately.  We  had  scarcely  taken  our  seats  in 
the  recitation-room  when  Anselme  opened  the  door,  and 
shouted  : 

"  Monsieur  Besnard !  Monsieur  Thomereau !  will 
appear  before  the  principal  — " 


CHAPTER  XV. 

IN  THE  PRINCIPAL'S  ROOM. —  THE  LECACHEY  FAMILY. — 
A    PETITION. 

TO  be  summoned  before  the  principal  was,  under  any 
circumstances,  a  matter  of  no  small  consequence. 
Such  an  honour  had  never  been  conferred  on  me  during 
my  residence  at  the  Lycee  Montaigne,  but  that  I  was  to 
share  it  now  with  Thomereau  was  certainly  ominous  of 
evil. 

It  behooved  me  to  put  the  best  face  possible  upon  the 
matter,  however,  and  I  flatter  myself  that  my  step  was 
pretty  firm  as,  under  Anselme's  guidance,  I  threaded  the 
corridors  that  led  to  the  dread  precincts. 

As  for  Thomereau,  his  courage  seemed  suddenly  to 
have  deserted  him.  He  showed  no  disposition  to  laugh, 
and  his  punning  proclivities  were  in  abeyance.  I  even 
thought  I  could  detect  a  suspicious  trembling  in  the  re- 
gion of  his  knees.  At  all  events,  he  walked  very  slowly, 
and  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  reach  his  journey's  end. 

"  What  the  devil  can  the  principal  want  with  us  ?  "  he 
asked,  in  a  lugubrious  tone. 

"  Parbleu,  the  thing  is  plain  enough,"  said  I,  myself  not 
feeling  particularly  at  ease,  "it  was  your  beastly  Fores- 
tons  who  secured  the  invitation  for  us." 

If  we  had  retained  the  least  doubt  on  this  point,  it  was 
dissipated  the  moment  we  set  foot  in  the  sanctum  of  the 
principal.  He  was  seated,  calm  and  grave,  before  his 


IN   THE   PRINCIPAL'S  ROOM.  193 

great  desk  of  white  oak,  in  the  middle  of  a  spacious  study, 
whose  walls  were  lined  with  shelves  loaded  with  books  and 
receptacles  for  documents.  M.  Desbans  and  the  proctor 
occupied  chairs  beside  him.  Lecachey  was  standing  at  a 
window,  with  a  rather  chopfallen  expression  on  his  face ; 
his  left  cheek  was  noticeably  redder  than  the  other. 

"  Come  forward,  gentlemen,"  M.  Montus  said  to  us, 
upon  our  entrance.  Then,  in  the  same  breath,  addressing 
Thomereau  : 

"This  is  not  the  first  time,"  he  said,  in  severe  tones, 
"  that  your  vagaries  have  been  brought  to  my  attention, 
but  this  one  passes  the  limit  of  endurance.  Whence 
could  you  have  derived  the  pitiful  assurance  to  contrive 
so  scandalous  a  mystification,  and  employ  it  to  the  annoy- 
ance of  one  of  your  masters  —  and  such  a  master  !  He 
who,  above  all,  reflects  honour  on  the  lycee  by  his  supe- 
rior merit,  and  the  fame  of  his  achievements  in  the  field 
of  science  !  Oh,  monsieur,  if  you  have  the  least  senti- 
ment of  decency  left  in  you,  you  should  have  been  over- 
whelmed with  shame  at  the  mere  thought  of  committing 
an  action,  —  I  will  not  say  so  offensive,  for  nothing  ema- 
nating from  you  can  injure  M.  Desbans,  but  so  low  and 
unmanly  —  in  one  word,  so  impudent" 

Thomereau  was  lividly  pale.  M.  Desbans's  eyes  pleaded 
for  mercy  for  the  culprit. 

"  Your  fault  is  so  grave,"  the  principal  continued,  "that 
my  first  impulse  was  to  telegraph  your  parents  to  come 
and  remove  you  from  the  school.  If  I  did  not  at  once 
carry  my  purpose  into  execution  it  is  because  M.  Desbans 
himself  has  interceded  in  your  favour  and  urges  me  to 
grant  a  respite.  Rest  assured  that  if  I  yield  to  his  in- 
stances it  will  not  be  from  any  consideration  for  you.  I 
am  not  certain  that,  instead  of  relinquishing  my  first 

•X'mfcttit:    t.JBn>*/>r>^ 

**         OFTHE     ^>N 

UNIVERSITY 


IQ4  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

intention,  it  is  not  my  duty  to  rid  Division  No.  I  of  a  pupil 
who  has  always  been  a  centre  of  mischief  and  disorder. 
As  it  is,  however,  your  professor  himself  insists  that 
mercy  be  shown  you.  Moved  by  a  sentiment  that  does 
him  honour,  he  objects  to  being  the  indirect — and  cer- 
tainly entirely  innocent  —  cause  of  a  sentence  of  expulsion 
that  would  forever  be  a  blot  upon  your  future.  I  ought 
not  to  leave  you  uninformed,  monsieur,  that  he  would  not 
even  have  condescended  to  complain  of  your  transgression 
had  not  the  proctor's  attention  been  drawn  to  the  sorry 
prank  by  the  affray  which  resulted  from  it." 

Here  M.  Montns  looked  at  me  in  a  way  that  gave  me 
food  for  reflection. 

"  So,  for  this  once,  I  have  again  decided  to  be  lenient 
with  you.  Your  punishment  will  be  confinement  within 
the  limits  for  the  remainder  of  the  term.  But  bear  in 
mind  that  you  have  only  one  fault  more  to  commit,  and 
that  on  the  first  serious  complaint  sentence  of  expulsion 
will  be  pronounced  against  you,  from  which  there  will  be 
no  appeal.  Thank  M.  Desbans  for  his  kindness  which 
you  have  done  so  little  to  deserve,  after  which  you  may 
join  your  classes." 

"  Crestfallen  as  a  fox  made  prisoner  by  a  hen,"  Tho- 
mereau  advanced  a  step  toward  M.  Desbans  and  muttered 
some  almost  unintelligible  words.  Our  dear  master  seemed 
hardly  less  embarrassed  by  his  role  than  the  malefactor 
himself,  but  in  the  goodness  of  his  heart  he  was  not  long 
in  finding  a  gracious  word  to  say. 

"  Do  not  let  this  vex  you  more  than  it  vexes  me,"  he 
said,  extending  his  loyal  hand  to  Thomereau,  "  and  I 
promise  you  that  we  shall  continue  to  be  good  friends." 

Then,  as  my  turn  was  coming,  he  thought  to  spare  me 
the  humiliation  of  being  admonished  in  his  presence ;  with 


CRESTFALLEN    AS    A    FOX    MADE    PRISONER    BY    A    HEN. 


IN   THE   PRINCIPAL'S  ROOM.  197 

a  comprehensive  salutation  to  the  assemblage  he  left  the 
room,  the  principal  accompanying  him  to  the  door  of  the 
antechamber. 

"  As  for  you,  Monsieur  Besnard,"  M.  Montus  resumed 
when  he  had  returned  and  seated  himself  at  his  desk, 
"your  offence  is  not  of  the  same  nature  as  Thomereau's, 
but  it  cannot  be  allowed  to  pass  unnoticed.  It  is  not  for 
me  to  inquire  into  the  motive  which  induced  you  to 
commit  so  violent  and  brutal  an  assault  on  one  of  your 
comrades." 

Lecachey  was  present  still,  a  silent  listener  to  a  con- 
versation that  had  in  it  so  little  to  flatter  his  self-esteem. 
He  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  floor,  and  appeared  totally 
uninterested  in  what  was  going  on. 

I  don't  know  what  instinct  told  me  that  he  must  have 
laid  a  complaint  before  the  proctor,  and  that  but  for  him 
the  affair  would  never  have  reached  headquarters.  At 
the  same  moment  the  thought  of  the  base  accusation  he 
had  brought  against  Baudouin  recurred  to  my  mind. 
These  tumultuous  sentiments  inspired  me  with  a  boldness 
that  to  me  was  unusual. 

"  Mr.  Principal,"  I  suddenly  said,  "  I  feel  it  my  duty  to 
say  to  you  in  all  frankness  that  I  cannot  bring  myself  to 
think  that  I  was  in  the  wrong,  and  that  upon  a  repetition 
of  the  circumstances  I  doubt  if  I  should  be  able  to 
restrain  an  impulse  that,  in  my  opinion,  was  entirely 
justifiable.  It  was  not  my  own  honour  I  was  defending, 
but  a  friend's,  whom  I  could  not  stand  by  and  in  cold 
blood  hear  outraged  in  that  wherein  he  is  most  invulner- 
able, his  loyalty  of  character." 

The  principal  shot  a  glance  at  Lecachey,  who  dared 
not  raise  his  eyes,  and  I  thought  I  saw  a  faint  indication 
of  a  smile  upon  his  lips,  but  if  so  he  immediately  re- 
pressed it. 


198  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE 

11 1  have  nothing  to  do  with  your  motives,"  he  said,  and 
his  tone  was  less  harsh  than  were  his  words ;  "all  I  have 
to  consider  is  the  facts  as  they  are.  By  your  own 
admission  you  have  been  guilty  of  a  breach  of  the  peace, 
a  thing  that  under  no  circumstances  can  I  tolerate  in  the 
lycee.  All  that  remains  for  me  to  do  is  to  inflict  the 
penalty,  which  in  your  case  will  be  two  months'  confine- 
ment to  quarters,  and  you  may  consider  yourself  fortunate 
to  get  off  so  easily.  I  know  that  you  are  applying  your- 
self, and  are  one  of  the  best  scholars  of  your  class," 
M.  Montus  was  pleased  to  add.  "  It  is  for  that  reason 
you  have  escaped  a  severer  punishment." 

He  dismissed  me  with  a  nod  of  the  head,  and  I  retired, 
in  company  with  Thomereau,  who  by  this  time  was  pretty 
well  recovered  from  his  panic. 

"  Tronc-de-C6ne  is  a  good  devil  all  the  same  !  "  he  said 
to  me  as  we  were  leisurely  strolling  back  to  Division 
No.  i. 

The  corridor  we  were  pursuing  was  of  considerable 
length ;  we  were  nearing  its  further  extremity  when  our 
attention  was  attracted  by  the  report  of  a  closing  door, 
and  turning,  we  saw  Lecachey  emerging  from  the  office  of 
the  principal.  Doubtless  he  had  in  turn  been  receiving 
his  compliment,  brief,  and  to  the  point. 

At  that  instant  Lecachey  raised  his  eyes  and  recognized 
us. 

He  hesitated  a  moment  and  seemed  to  be  debating, 
inwardly,  whether  he  should  advance,  but  with  sudden 
determination  he  rapidly  retreated  his  steps  and  took 
refuge  in  the  principal's  antechamber.  That  was  suffi- 
cient to  send  us  off  at  speed  in  the  opposite  direction, 
toward  our  class-room. 

And  that  was  the  last  I  ever  saw  of  Lecachey. 


IN  THE   PRINCIPAL'S  ROOM.  199 

Whether  it  was  that  the  central  authority  had  meted 
out  to  him  a  punishment  for  his  share  in  the  squabble 
that  he  did  not  choose  to  submit  to,  or  whether  he  was 
not  particularly  desirous  to  face  Baudouin  and  me  again, 
after  this  day  he  discontinued  his  attendance  at  the  lycee. 

I  subsequently  learned  that  he  had  informed  his  father 
that  he  had  amassed  all  the  learning  necessary  for  his 
happiness,  and  did  not  see  any  necessity  for  completing 
his  studies  in  rhetoric.  M.  Lecachey  had  never  been  able 
to  oppose  the  caprices,  however  unreasonable,  of  his  illus- 
trious offspring.  He  was  reputed  on  every  hand  to  be  a 
man  of  great  intelligence  and  remarkable  aptitude  for 
business  ;  starting  with  moderate  means,  he  had,  in  a  few 
years,  made  his  banking  house  one  of  the  first  in  Paris ; 
but  he  lacked  firmness,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  ruled  in 
everything  by  his  wife  and  son,  the  latter  a  headstrong, 
idle  youth,  the  former  a  frivolous,  empty-headed  woman, 
addicted  to  luxury  and  display,  living  in  a  constant  tur- 
moil of  fetes  and  entertainments,  and  whose  sole  object  in 
life  was  to  outshine  her  rivals  with  her  expensive  gowns 
and  smart  equipages. 

There  might  be  something  to  be  said  in  excuse  of  this 
last-named  point,  however,  owing  to  the  immense  pros- 
perity of  the  banking  concern,  and  the  alleged  necessity 
for  a  certain  amount  of  public  show  and  ostentation. 

"  It  is  my  wife  whom  I  charge  with  spending  my  money," 
the  banker  said  to  his  friends. 

But  for  his  weakness  toward  his  son  there  was  no  ex- 
cuse, for  it  was  not  an  excuse  to  believe  that,  because  he 
was  sole  heir  to  a  handsome  fortune,  he  was  entitled  to 
live  all  his  life  an  ignorant  and  useless  member  of  society. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  however,  on  the  present  occasion  M. 
Lecachey  interposed  some  feeble  objections,  urging  his 


200  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

son  to  take  his  degree,  and  enter  the  law  school,  but  in  the 
end  yielded  to  the  young  man's  arguments,  with  the  pro- 
viso that  he  should  at  once  take  his  place  behind  a  desk 
in  the  paternal  banking  house. 

Before  the  Easter  holidays  he  had  already  been  pro- 
moted chief  clerk  in  his  father's  private  office.  I  often 
wondered  if  he  had  a  man  specially  attached  to  his  person 
to  correct  his  faults  of  spelling  and  numerous  other 
blunders. 

As  for  me,  by  the  time  Thomereau  and  I  had  regained 
the  class-room  I  had  ceased  to  think  of  my  prospective 
confinement. 

But  alas !  I  was  obliged  to  think  of  it  when,  Sunday 
after  Sunday,  the  package  of  exeats  was  handed  to  M. 
Valadier,  and  it  contained  none  for  me. 

Baudouin  had  ultimately  been  apprised  of  the  Lecachey 
business  and  its  consequences.  He  had  at  first  main- 
tained that  his  duty  was  to  share  my  captivity,  but  had 
finally  yielded  to  my  instances,  and  admitted  the  useless- 
ness  of  immuring  himself  in  the  lycee  during  hours  that 
might  be  employed  to  better  advantage.  He  had  long 
desired  to  make  a  thorough  inspection  of  certain  collec- 
tions of  prints  and  original  drawings  in  our  museums, 
where  I  was  less  inclined  than  he  to  make  protracted 
visits,  which  frequently  resulted  in  his  depriving  himself 
of  a  pleasure,  to  spare  me  a  slight  inconvenience.  It  was 
agreed  that  henceforth  he  should  devote  my  days  of  con- 
finement to  these  researches. 

As  for  mamma,  Aunt  Aubert,  my  father  and  grand- 
father, who  suffered  even  more  than  I  did  from  this  long 
famine  of  holidays,  they  fell  into  the  habit  of  coming  twice 
a  week,  and  spending  the  noonday  recess  with  me  in  the 
parlour. 


IN   THE   PRINCIPAL'S  ROOM.  2OI 

Aunt  Aubert  on  these  occasions  never  failed  to  bring 
me  certain  jars  of  sweetmeats  and  pots  of  jam,  that  were 
appreciated  by  Baudouin,  Verschuren,  and  particularly  by 
Chavasse,  even  more  gratefully  than  by  me.  All  through 
school  life  I  adhered,  as  far  as  possible,  to  the  excellent 
habit  of  sharing  with  my  comrades.  Independently  of  the 
very  real  pleasure  that  this  proceeding  afforded  me,  I  dis- 
covered in  it  an  advantage  that  I  had  not  calculated  on,  a 
reciprocity  of  good  offices  on  the  part  of  others.  If  people 
only  knew  how  much  they  lose  through  selfishness,  no  one 
would  let  himself  be  mastered  by  that  odious  vice. 

Returning  to  my  confinement,  it  was  no  small  affliction, 
every  Sunday  morning,  to  see  my  comrades,  spick  and 
span  in  all  the  glory  of  clean  linen,  and  shining  boots,  file 
one  by  one  through  the  open  door  at  Anselme's  vocifer- 
ous summons,  and  go  forth  into  the  outer  world. 

Even  when  they  heroically  abstained  from  chaffing  me 
on  my  miserable  lot,  and  did  not  congratulate  me  on  the 
inestimable  privilege  accorded  me  of  remaining  at  the 
lycee,  and  enjoying  the  dominical  rice-cake,  my  feelings 
were  anything  but  cheerful,  and  I  was  rather  inclined  to 
regard  myself  as  a  youthful  martyr  in  the  cause  of  friend- 
ship. 

But  this  very  thought  served  to  sustain  my  courage, 
and  inspired  me  with  a  certain  degree  of  resignation. 
Was  it  not  for  Baudouin's  sake  that  I  was  suffering  perse- 
cution ?  The  affair  had  not  been  of  my  seeking.  I  had 
obeyed  a  perfectly  natural  sentiment  in  publicly  resenting 
a  slander,  publicly  uttered  against  my  friend.  Doubtless 
I  had  done  myself  an  injury,  by  not  being  a  little  more 
discreet,  but  to  stand  still  and  do  nothing  would  have  been 
treason  to  my  devoted  affection  for  Baudouin.  Since  I 
was  condemned  to  spend  my  days  at  the  lycee  there  was 


2O2  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

but  one  thing  left  for  me  to  do  :  utilize  them  to  the  best 
of  my  ability  by  working  hard,  and  thus  steal  a  march  on 
my  comrades. 

And  that  is  what  I  set  to  work  to  do,  with  a  rather 
heavy  heart,  it  must  be  confessed. 

One  Saturday  —  it  was  the  Saturday  of  my  second 
week's  captivity  —  an  idea  occurred  to  me,  that  my  mod- 
esty alone  deters  me  from  qualifying  as  luminous  in  its 
simplicity. 

Dutheil  and  I  were  accustomed,  during  the  four  o'clock 
recess,  to  run  up  for  a  few  minutes  to  the  library  of  the 
lycee.  It  was  a  great  room,  whose  walls  were  hidden  by 
books ;  its  furnishings  consisted  of  a  long  table  with  a 
green  baize  cover,  and  a  few  chairs,  and  it  was  under  the 
special  charge  of  a  youthful  usher.  It  was  open,  for  one 
hour  daily,  to  the  students  in  rhetoric  and  philosophy 
only.  One  had  to  rush  up  the  staircase,  call  for  the 
books  he  wished  to  see,  and  make  his  notes  with  headlong 
speed. 

Brief  as  were  these  visits  between  a  luncheon  bolted 
standing  and  afternoon  recitation,  they  always  left  with 
me  a  delicious  memory.  The  orderly  array  of  the  books 
in  their  rich  bindings,  mathematically  aligned  on  shelves 
of  black  varnished  wood,  the  gilded  titles,  the  peaceful 
quiet  of  the  room,  even  the  odour  of  the  old  dusty  tomes,  — 
all  contributed  to  inspire  in  me  a  sensation  of  reverence 
and  deep-seated  joy,  and  one  of  my  regrets  was  that  we 
were  not  permitted  to  remain  longer  in  this  sanctuary. 
What  would  I  not  have  given  to  be  allowed  to  pass  one 
whole  day  there  and  rummage  at  will  among  the  shelves ! 

On  the  Saturday  I  spoke  of,  just  as  the  drum  beat 
recalling  us  to  our  studies,  something  prompted  me  to  ask 
the  youthful  guardian  if  I  might  not  be  allowed  to  use  the 


TJHIVERSIT 


IN   THE   PRINCIPAL'S  ROOM.  203 

library  on  Sundays,  seeing  that  I  was  under  sentence  of 
confinement. 

"There  is  only  one  thing  to  prevent,"  he  replied,  with 
a  laugh  :  "  the  library  is  closed  on  that  day  of  the  week. 
I  am  not  under  sentence  of  confinement,  thank  the  Lord, 
and  Sunday  is  my  holiday  !  " 

I  returned  to  the  class-room  in  a  despondent  frame  of 
mind.  My  imagination  had  drawn  a  delicious  picture  of 
the  joy  that  would  be  mine  if  I  might  only  spend  my  Sun- 
day among  those  books  instead  of  in  the  dormitory. 

"  Why  should  I  not  write  to  the  principal  and  prefer  a 
request  inform?"  I  suddenly  asked  myself.  "There  is 
nothing  wrong  in  my  desire,  and  if  the  thing  is  contrary 
to  the  regulations,  why,  there  will  be  no  great  harm  done." 

I  immediately  sat  down  and  applied  myself  to  compos- 
ing a  petition. 

"  It  must  be  in  Latin!  "  I  said  to  myself,  developing  my 
idea.  "  It  will  be  more  likely  to  receive  attention." 

So  I  explained  to  M.  Montus,  eximie  prcztor,  that  being 
by  his  orders  reduced  to  captivity  until  Easter  (or  the 
sixth  day  after  the  ides  of  April),  I  should  be  glad  to  be 
allowed  to  utilize  that  trying  period  by  extending  the  cir- 
cle of  my  literary  attainments.  In  a  word,  permission  to 
use  the  library  on  Sundays  would  fill  the  measure  of  my 
desires,  and  complete  my  earthly  felicity,  and  if  he  would 
accede  to  my  request,  he  should  always  occupy  a  position 
in  my  heart  among  the  benefactors  to  humanity. 

It  was  nearly  seven  o'clock  before  I  had  put  the  last 
finishing  touch  to  my  production,  and  on  my  way  down  to 
supper  I  gave  it  to  Anselme,  exhorting  him  to  deliver  it 
at  once. 

It  so  happened  that  the  principal  was  making  one  of 
his  periodical  visits  of  inspection  to  the  refectory  that 


204  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

evening,  and  was  walking  with  the  proctor,  in  the  lane 
that  separated  the  rows  of  tables.  I  saw  him  open  the 
envelope  that  Anselme  handed  him,  and  smile  as  he  ran 
his  eye  over  my  letter.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that 
I  awaited  his  decision  with  anxiety. 

He  was  too  kind  to  keep  me  in  suspense,  and,  as  we 
rose  from  table  at  the  conclusion  of  the  repast,  beckoned 
to  me. 

"  I  grant  your  request,"  he  said,  with  a  smile.  "  Your 
idea  is  a  good  one,  and  I  am  pleased  to  see  that  you 
propose  to  profit  by  the  lessons  of  adversity.  The  only 
condition  I  impose  is  that  you  use  care  in  handling  the 
books  in  the  library,  where  you  will  be  alone,  for  it  would 
be  unjust  to  deprive  the  attendant  of  his  holiday  for  your 
sole  benefit.  Anselme  will  give  you  the  key  to-morrow 
morning  at  ten  o'clock,  and  it  will  rest  with  you  to  merit 
a  continuance  of  the  favour  on  the  following  Sundays." 

I  bowed  respectfully,  and  followed  my  comrades.  My 
feet  seemed  hardly  to  touch  the  stairs,  so  lightly  did  I  fly 
up  them  to  the  dormitory.  What  was  my  captivity  to  me, 
now  !  I  was  sure  that  my  time  would  be  profitably  spent. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    PROPER    METHOD  OF    TEACHING   HISTORY. CON- 

CIONES    LATINS. MR.     MURCHISON's     IDEAS.  

EASTER. PANADA. 

THE  next  day,  about  two  o'clock,  I  was  ensconced 
in  the  embrasure  of  one  of  the  windows  of  the 
library,  and  so  absorbed  in  what  I  was  reading  that  I  did 
not  hear  the  door  open.  I  raised  my  head  at  the  sound 
of  a  familiar  voice. 

"  Hallo,  is  that  you  there  in  the  window,  M.  Besnard  ? " 
said  M.  Aveline.  '« I  came  here  to  look  up  some  authori- 
ties in  the  Bollandist  collection,  —  perhaps  you  wouldn't 
mind  lending  me  your  assistance." 

It  was  with  great  pleasure  that  I  placed  my  services  at 
the  disposal  of  my  professor  in  history.  I  found  in  short 
order  the  big  volume  that  he  named  to  me,  laid  it  open  on 
the  table,  and  M.  Aveline  was  at  liberty  to  go  ahead  and 
hunt  up  the  quotation  that  he  needed.  It  took  him  some 
minutes,  during  which  time  I  remained  at  his  side,  and  we 
kept  up  a  disconnected  conversation. 

"  How  comes  it  that  you  are  at  the  lycee  today  ?  "  he 
asked  me. 

I  had  to  explain  to  him  that  I  was  paying  the  penalty 
of  a  misdemeanour. 

"  Ah,  so  !  And  you  make  good  use  of  your  time,  I 
am  happy  to  see.  What  were  you  reading  when  I  came 
in  ?  " 


206  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  JN  FRANCE. 

M.  Aveline  glanced  at  a  chair  near  the  place  I  had  been 
occupying,  on  which  I  had  piled  fifteen  or  twenty  volumes 
of  Rollins,  Mezerai's  "  History,"  Froissart's  "  Chronicles," 
Chateaubriand's  "  Martyrs,"  and  I  know  not  what  works 
besides. 

"  Let  me  give  you  a  bit  of  advice  in  return  for  your 
politeness,"  he  continued,  with  a  smile.  "  If  you  wish  to 
make  profitable  use  of  your  time,  in  an  educational  point 
of  view,  I  mean,  as  well  as  in  regard  to  developing  your 
intelligence,  do  not  scatter  your  efforts  and  do  not  read 
at  random.  Lay  out  for  yourself  a  line  of  historical 
study.  Select  separately  each  day  an  epoch,  a  period, 
some  particular  event  or  series  of  events,  choose  two  or 
three  historians  who  have  treated  the  matter  competently, 
and  read,  successively,  the  chapters  that  relate  to  your 
special  subject,  taking  copious  notes,  particularly  where 
there  is  a  divergence  of  opinion.  Then,  this  preliminary 
labour  accomplished,  sum  up  for  yourself,  as  briefly  but 
clearly  as  possible,  the  inferences  you  draw  from  the 
comparison.  Apply  this  method  systematically  to  all 
the  subjects  that  you  take  up,  and  let  me  know  what 
you  think  of  it." 

"  But  how  shall  I  know  where  to  look  for  my  au- 
thorities ? " 

"  I  will  very  gladly  undertake  to  point  them  out  to 
you  in  the  beginning,  but  you  will  not  need  my  assistance 
long.  You  will  soon  learn  what  author  to  refer  to  in 
any  particular  case,  and  turn  to  him  of  your  own 
accord." 

"  What,  monsieur,  would  you  have  the  goodness  — 

"  It  is  for  that  purpose  that  I  am  your  professor,  and 
you  are  aware  that  that  is  the  foundation  of  my  method 
of  instruction.  At  each  recitation  I  mention  the  authors 


PROPER  METHOD    OF   TEACHING   HISTORY.       2O/ 

that  may  be  consulted  most  advantageously  on  the  lesson 
of  the  day.  If  you  desire  further  information,  either  in 
regard  to  certain  portions  of  that  lesson,  or  concerning  a 
course  of  study  that  you  may  have  laid  out  for  yourself, 
you  need  never  fear  to  come  to  me.  A  professor  is 
only  too  glad  to  assist  with  his  advice  an  industrious 
and  willing  pupil." 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  after  M.  Aveline  had  left  me,  I 
had  already  mapped  out  for  myself  a  plan  of  study  and 
reading  for  the  ensuing  Sunday.  Up  to  the  present  time 
my  only  thought  had  been  to  derive  as  much  enjoyment 
as  possible  from  my  compulsory  seclusion.  I  suddenly 
saw  the  immense  advantage  that  might  accrue  to  me  from 
a  system  of  methodical  and  well-directed  research  carried 
on  during  these  hours  of  supplementary  labour. 

From  that  day  the  life  of  the  school  underwent  a 
change  for  me,  and  I  can  truthfully  say  that  my  punish- 
ment became  a  pleasure.  I  was  working  with  a  definite, 
special  end  in  view.  I  assigned  to  myself  for  each  week 
a  certain  determinate  task,  and  it  was  not  long  before  my 
compositions  began  to  manifest  the  practical  advantage 
that  I  derived  from  it.  Those  Sunday  readings  became 
an  actual  necessity  to  me.  The  thought  afforded  me 
extraordinary  pleasure  that  I,  a  mere  schoolboy  and  only 
yesterday  a  thoughtless  urchin,  was  in  a  position  to  trace 
matters  to  their  source,  to  compare  texts,  and  on  the 
various  occurrences  of  history  to  obtain,  not  information 
at  second  hand,  not  the  dry  and  juiceless  summaries  that 
are  found  in  the  usual  manuals  and  text-books,  but  the 
breathing  words  and  detailed  opinions  of  the  greatest 
intellects. 

In  these  auspicious  circumstances  I  felt  my  intelligence 
maturing  as  the  ears  of  grain  are  expanded  and  gilded  by 


208  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

the  quickening  sunshine.  My  literary  style  improved, 
together  with  my  intellectual  faculties.  Not  a  day  passed 
that  was  not  marked  by  a  long  stride  in  advance.  I  saw 
my  way  clear  before  me ;  I  knew  where  I  wished  to  go, 
and  I  advanced  steadfastly  in  that  direction. 

The  passion  for  thoroughness  that  I  had  contracted  was 
not  confined  to  history ;  it  spread  and  grew,  and  presently 
extended  to  all  my  other  studies.  I  felt  how  senseless  it 
was  to  live  for  years  side  by  side  with  the  greatest  writers 
of  antiquity  and  not  extract  from  them  all  that  they  con- 
tained. I  made  it  my  business  to  read  them  attentively, 
to  inform  myself  as  to  their  lives,  to  study  the  principal 
essays  and  criticisms  on  their  works,  to  penetrate,  more 
deeply  than  I  had  done  hitherto,  the  spiritual  character- 
istics of  the  men.  And  then,  to  my  great  delight,  I  saw 
that  what  had  been  so  colourless  and,  if  I  must  say  the 
word,  so  tiresome,  while  confining  myself  to  the  daily 
routine  of  the  class,  all  at  once  became  the  most  attractive 
and  interesting  of  studies.  All  things  were  suddenly 
revealed  to  me  in  a  new  light.  Like  Aladdin  with  his 
wonderful  lamp,  I  proceeded  in  my  cave  from  enchantment 
to  enchantment. 

However,  this  enlargement  of  my  labours  and  of  my 
ideas  was  not  without  its  drawback.  It  inspired  in  me, 
unwittingly,  perhaps,  a  certain  contempt  for  the  ordinary 
exercises  of  the  class,  and  particularly,  as  I  remember, 
for  the  recitation  of  tasks. 

I  did  not  go  so  far  as  not  to  learn  them,  in  the  first 
place  because  that  was  a  matter  that  never  gave  me  any 
trouble,  for  I  had  an  extremely  good  memory,  and  then 
because  for  nothing  in  the  world  would  I  have  put  myself 
in  a  false  position  and  exposed  myself  to  a  reprimand. 
But  if  I  learned  them  it  was  perfunctorily,  and  I  could 


PROPER   METHOD    OF   TEACHING  HISTORY.        209 

not  help  protesting  in  petto  against  what  I  considered  a 
waste  of  time. 

I  opened  my  mind  on  the  subject,  with  great  frankness, 
to  M.  Pellerin  one  day  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  punish 
a  boy  for  not  knowing  the  first  word  of  his  lesson  in  the 
Condones. 

"  Monsieur,"  I  said  to  him,  on  the  dismissal  of  the 
class,  in  one  of  those  informal  conversations  that  he  liked 
to  hold  with  five  or  six  of  us  grouped  round  his  desk,  "  I 
have  a  doubt  that  I  should  be  glad  if  you  would  solve. 
Do  you  think  it  is  really  of  advantage  to  pupils  in 
rhetoric  to  learn  tasks  by  heart,  and  might  they  not 
employ  their  time  to  better  purpose  ?  For  instance, 
would  it  not  be  more  profitable  to  read  a  hundred  pages 
of  a  good  author  than  to  addle  one's  brain  trying  to 
learn  to  repeat,  parrot  fashion,  twenty  lines  from  the 
Condones  ?  " 

M.  Pellerin  laughed.  "  That  is  an  objection  which  I 
should  scarcely  have  expected  from  you,"  he  said.  "  Do 
you  suppose  I  would  impose  on  you  and  your  comrades  a 
duty  whose  efficacy  had  not  been  clearly  demonstrated  ? 
No,  the  mere  reading,  no  matter  how  attentively,  of  a 
hundred  pages  by  a  good  author  can  never  have  the  same 
effect  as  a  lesson  committed  to  memory.  In  the  first 
place,  I  should  have  to  be  assured  that  the  hundred  pages 
had  been  actually  read,  which  there  is  no  means  of  doing, 
while  it  is  an  easy  matter  for  me  to  ascertain  whether  the 
lesson  has  been  learned  or  not.  But  outside  this  question 
of  conscience  and  performance,  can  you  not  see  the  differ- 
ence there  is  between  hastily  skimming  over  a  certain 
number  of  pages  of  print  and  the  perfect  assimilation  that 
results  from  a  task  thoroughly  mastered  ?  To  learn  a 
page  by  heart,  you  are  obliged  to  read  it  over  and  over, 


2IO  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

to  get  at  its  very  marrow,  to  grasp  its  most  insignificant 
details.  You  make  yourself  master  not  only  of  the  writer's 
thoughts  but  of  his  style,  and  those  thoughts,  that  style, 
become  an  integral  part  of  your  being.  Is  not  that  by 
itself  a  result  of  some  importance  ?  Well,  that  result  is 
only  a  small  fraction  of  the  benefit  you  derive  from  mem- 
orizing — 

I  looked  at  M.  Pellerin  with  an  astonishment  which  I 
made  no  attempt  to  conceal. 

"In  the  first  place,"  he  resumed,  "the  effort  required 
to  retain  the  task  exercises  your  attention  and  accustoms 
you  to  concentrate  your  mental  faculties  on  one  specific 
object.  In  the  second  place,  it  exercises  your  memory, 
unquestionably  one  of  the  most  useful  attributes  of  the 
intelligence  and  which  more  than  all  the  rest  stands  in 
need  of  constant  cultivation.  .Finally,  it  assists  in  the 
formation  of  your  taste,  it  increases  your  stock  of  facts  and 
judgments.  Don't  you  think  that  all  those  benefits  com- 
pensate for  the  trouble  of  memorizing  a  few  lines  daily  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  I  quickly  replied,  impressed  by  my  master's 
demonstration.  "  But  might  we  not  learn  something 
beside  the  Condones?" 

"The  Condones!"  M.  Pellerin  exclaimed.  "What!  can 
it  be  that  you  are  one  of  those  who  fail  to  appreciate  that 
noble  work  at  its  true  value  ?  Have  you  fallen  into  the 
error,  common  to  so  many  schoolboys,  that  causes  them  to 
look  disdainfully  on  any  text-book  that  the  experience  of 
their  instructors  places  in  their  hands  ?  Have  you  never 
noticed  how  admirable  in  every  respect  the  book  in  ques- 
tion is,  and  particularly  how  perfectly  it  is  adapted  to  its 
end  ?  Reflect,  my  lad,  that  the  Condones  is  the  very 
essence  of  Titus  Livius,  Quintus  Curtius,  Sallust,  and 
Tacitus,  that  is  to  say  of  the  four  greatest  historians  in 


PROPER   METHOD    OF   TEACHING   HISTORY.        211 

Latin  literature.  Latin  literature,  it  is  unnecessary  for 
me  to  remind  you,  is  the  parent  not  only  of  our  language, 
but  of  our  ideas,  our  morality,  our  genius  itself.  Well !  it 
is  the  philosophy  and  the  history  of  that  great  Roman 
nation,  our  predecessor  and  our  legislator,  that  you  have 
in  substance  in  the  Condones,  set  forth  by  the  pen  of  its 
most  illustrious  writers  in  prose  — 

M.  Pellerin  paused  for  a  moment,  but  went  on  again 
almost  immediately : 

"  There  is  more  to  be  said.  This  resume  is  not  a  dry 
and  impersonal  narrative,  a  bare  summary  of  occurrences 
and  facts.  It  is  a  living  and  breathing  discussion  of  the 
highest  interests  of  Roman  policy.  Together  with  the 
consuls,  the  generals,  and  the  senators  of  the  great  re- 
public, you  penetrate  the  very  heart  of  the  questions  that 
influenced  their  actions.  You  are  transported  to  the 
council  hall,  to  the  forum,  to  the  head  of  conquering 
armies.  You  follow  them  in  the  discussion  of  the  motives 
which  dictate  their  actions  and  direct  their  conduct.  You 
put  yourself,  to  a  certain  extent,  in  their  place.  The  whole 
scene  lives  again  before  you,  it  is  the  age,  the  very  abstract 
and  mirror  of  the  time  that  rise  before  your  vision.  Do 
you  think  it  would  be  easy  to  find  another  book  as  well 
calculated  to  develop,  at  the  same  time,  your  imagination 
and  your  judgment,  and  add  the  crowning  sheaf  to  your 
classic  studies  ?  Believe  me,  the  Condones  could  not  be 
readily  replaced.  To  produce  it  required  the  profound 
scholarship,  the  familiarity  with  the  literature  of  the 
ancients,  and  the  didactic  genius  of  a  Henri  Estienne, 
second  of  the  name." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Henri  Estienne,  the  great 
printer  and  learned  pundit  of  the  sixteenth  century,  was 
the  author  of  the  Condones  ?  " 


212  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  Certainly.  He  it  was  who  first  conceived  the  idea  of 
collecting  in  a  single  volume  the  beauties  of  the  four  great 
Roman  historians,  and  that  is  not  the  least  of  the  services 
that  he  rendered  to  French  literature.  I  have  no  hesi- 
tation in  saying  that  all  Corneille,  all  Racine,  all  the  great 
school  of  political  reasoners,  and  all  the  century  of  Louis 
XV.,  show  very  distinctly  the  influence  of  the  Condones. 
Although  it  is  not  generally  known,  it  is  one  of  the  books 
that  have  most  contributed  to  impart  to  classic  thought  its 
definitive  imprint.  In  this  respect,  and  in  many  more 
besides,  it  deserves  the  high  place  which  it  holds  in  our 
system  of  instruction,  and  will  continue  to  hold  forever,  I 
hope  and  trust." 

Thus  on  occasion  would  M.  Pellerin  correct  in  my  views 
the  narrowness  arising  from  an  excess  of  zeal,  a  fault  not 
uncommon  among  neophytes. 

With  M.  Aveline  and  M.  Desbans,  moreover,  he  was 
not  the  only  master  by  whose  councils  I  profited.  For 
some  time  past  I  had  seen  in  the  English  lessons  a  new 
weapon  with  which  to  attack  the  supremacy  of  Dutheil, 
the  most  redoubtable  of  my  rivals.  He  manifested  for  the 
living  languages  a  contempt  that  was  difficult  of  explana- 
tion in  one.  as  intelligent  and  industrious  as  he,  performed 
his  exercises  in  English  perfunctorily  without  exhibiting 
the  slightest  interest,  and,  as  in  mathematics,  held  in  his 
class  a  secondary  place. 

Our  professor,  Mr.  Murchison,  was  a  most  estimable 
man,  very  gentle  and  polite,  very  intelligent,  with  a  hand- 
some pair  of  white  side-whiskers,  and  a  complexion  rosy 
as  an  albino's.  His  method  had  a  deserved  celebrity 
throughout  the  university,  and  he  could  point  with  justifi- 
able pride  to  the  fact  that  he  had  taught  the  generations 
of  young  Parisians  more  English  than  thirty  editions  of 


PROPER   METHOD    OF   TEACHING   HISTORY.        21$ 

the  most  widely  circulated  dictionary.  He  spoke  French 
as  fluently  as  his  mother  tongue,  and,  except  for  the  two 
words  syllabe  and  possessif,  which  he  invariably  pronounced 
syllable  and  poze-ssif,  his  accent  would  not  have  betrayed 
him  as  one  born  beyond  the  Channel.  Add  to  these 
details  a  large  share  of  that  national  self-complacency  for 
which  his  countrymen  are  so  eminently  distinguished,  the 
opinion  that  English,  being  spoken  by  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  millions  of  men,  is  entitled  to  the  front  rank  in 
the  hierarchy  of  languages,  and  the  unalterable  conviction 
that  Shakespeare  is  the  mightiest  of  literary  geniuses, 
past,  present,  or  to  come,  —  in  all  other  respects,  an 
irreproachable  master. 

He  had  a  number  of  little  methods,  personal  to  himself, 
for  inspiring  us  with  an  interest  in  our  work. 

For  instance,  he  thought,  and  quite  correctly,  too,  that, 
in  the  study  of  the  modern  languages,  everything,  or 
pretty  nearly  everything,  must  be  accomplished  through 
the  medium  of  the  ear,  and,  for  that  reason,  while  he  was 
excessively  exacting  as  regarded  punctuality  in  attendance 
at  recitations,  the  exercises  he  gave  us  to  do  were  of  the 
briefest. 

The  business  of  the  class  was  almost  wholly  transacted 
at  the  blackboard. 

Another  of  his  theories  was  that,  the  pupils'  faculties 
being  brighter  at  the  beginning  than  at  the  end  of  a  les- 
son, it  was  desirable  to  take  advantage  of  that  important 
circumstance.  Accordingly,  he  selected  that  moment  for 
putting  us  through  the  exercises  that  required  most  mental 
effort,  instead  of  employing  the  first  half  of  the  hour  in 
recitation  or  revising  compositions. 

He  considered  the  day  as  lost  that  did  not  witness  a 
step  taken  in  advance,  and  regarded  that  class  as  on  the 

or  THE         ^     >i 
tmiVERSITT) 


214  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

road  to  ruin  whose  every  member  did  not  carry  away  with 
him  at  the  end  of  the  session  some  fresh  acquisition.  It 
was  his  custom,  on  our  arrival,  to  write  out  on  the  black- 
board some  terse  observation  connected  with  the  business 
of  the  day,  and  make  us  repeat  it  until  he  saw  that  the 
class  had  mastered  it. 

As  regards  pronunciation,  he  had  a  very  simple  but 
unerring  method,  which  I  often  wonder  is  not  more  gen- 
erally employed.  It  consisted  in  writing  on  the  black- 
board two  lines  of  English  prose,  reading  them  aloud,  and 
then  making  us  all  repeat  them,  one  after  the  other,  from 
the  first  to  the  last.  It  took  from  seven  to  eight  minutes 
at  each  recitation,  and  I  cannot  tell  you  what  thorough 
masters  of  English  pronunciation  a  few  months  of  this 
drill  made  us. 

Speaking  of  this,  Mr.  Murchison  used  to  say  that  the 
great  fault  of  teachers  of  language  generally  was  that 
they  attempted  to  teach  their  pupils  the  sound  of  separate 
words,  instead  of  taking  the  words  connected  in  sentences, 
which  is  their  normal  relation,  —  a  system  which  causes  as 
much  trouble  to  remember  the  sound  of  an  isolated  word, 
that  is  to  say  in  its  exceptional  condition,  as  is  required  to 
grasp  the  word  fused  in  a  phrase  and  connected  with  the 
adjoining  words,  which  is  its  natural  condition.  I  have 
known  persons  who  could  take  up  an  English  or  German 
newspaper  and  read  it  offhand,  and  yet  could  not  under- 
stand a  word  spoken  in  one  of  those  idioms.  The  reason 
was  that  their  ear  had  not  been  early  familiarized  with  the 
change  that  the  rapid  pronunciation  of  the  syllables  seems 
to  produce  in  words  that  are  familiar  when  taken  separately. 

Finally,  Mr.  Murchison  had  an  inflexible  rule  in  regard 
to  compositions,  which  was  to  prohibit  the  use  of  the 
dictionary  except  where  absolutely  necessary. 


PROPER  METHOD    OF   TEACHING   HISTORY.        21$ 

" Where  is  the  proof  that  you. have  acquired  a  suffi- 
ciently extensive  vocabulary,"  he  said,  "if  you  are  not 
capable  of  drawing  from  your  own  resources  the  words 
required  for  a  translation  ?  What  you  accomplish  with 
the  assistance  of  the  dictionary  is  mere  machine  work; 
your  theme  or  version  will  be  more  or  less  successful  in 
proportion  to  the  amount  of  labour  you  devote  to  thumbing 
its  pages ;  but  nothing  will  prove  that  you  have  actually 
made  your  own  the  words  which  you  employ.  So,  down 
with  the  dictionary,  when  it  comes  to  a  trial  of  ability ! " 

Such  were  some  of  Mr.  Murchison's  characteristic 
notions.  Taken  in  connection  with  his  foreign  aspect, 
the  coldness  and  reserve  of  his  manners,  his  ultra  British 
habits  of  dress  and  bearing,  they  formed  an  ensemble  full 
of  flavour  and  originality,  which  contrasted  agreeably  with 
the  rather  colourless  tone  of  our  classes  and  made  the 
hours  spent  in  his  room  extremely  pleasant  to  me. 

Willy-nilly,  one  had  to  absorb  a  certain  modicum  of  Eng- 
lish with  him  ;  but,  as  I  have  said,  Dutheil  put  no  life  into 
his  work,  and  that  inspired  me  with  the  idea  of  devoting  all 
my  energies  to  a  branch  that  he  seemed  to  be  neglecting. 

"Would  n't  you  like  to  know  English  ?  "  I  said  to  him 
one  day.  "  I  should  think  it  must  be  very  nice  to  be  able 
to  speak  a  foreign  language." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  he  replied  with  a  self-satisfied  air, 
"  I  am  not  so  ambitious  ;  I  shall  be  content  to  speak  my 
own  correctly." 

"The  one  thing  is  no  hindrance  to  the  other.  You 
may  have  a  thorough  mastery  of  French  and  none  the  less 
know  English." 

"  I  have  no  desire  that  way.  English  is  of  no  benefit 
to  one,  except  in  trade,  and  I  have  no  intention  of  becom- 
ing a  merchant." 


2l6  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE, 

"  You  may  be  compelled  to  take  up  business.  And 
then  there  is  an  English  literature,  which  it  seems  to  me 
might  tempt  your  curiosity." 

"  I  can  read  it  in  translations." 

"  The  inhabitants  of  a  quarter  of  the  earth  speak  Eng- 
lish, and  you  may  take  it  in  your  head  to  travel  some  day." 

"  Good  !  where  is  the  civilized  country  where  you  won't 
find  a  French  cook  to  prepare  your  breakfast,  and  a  Swiss 
waiter  to  act  as  interpreter  ? " 

I  said  no  more,  but  I  adhered  to  my  purpose,  and  ap- 
plied myself  to  my  studies  under  Mr.  Murchison  with  such 
good-will,  that  in  a  few  months  I  could  read  English  prose 
without  the  assistance  of  a  dictionary.  My  father,  pleased 
to  see  this  decided  inclination  on  my  part,  was  desirous  of 
seconding  it,  and  presented  me  with  the  complete  works 
of  Dickens  and  Thackeray,  which  he  ordered  direct  from 
London.  What  I  could  read  of  them  in  my  leisure  mo- 
ments interested  me  more  than  I  can  tell,  and  at  the 
same  time  was  excellent  practice  for  me. 

It  happened  on  one  of  the  Sundays  of  my  captivity  that 
I  discovered  in  the  library  of  the  lycee  the  historical 
works  of  Hallam  and  Macaulay.  There  was  a  source  of 
information  to  which  it  was  not  likely  that  my  classmates, 
and  especially  Dutheil,  would  readily  secure  access.  I  at 
once  placed  the  two  great  writers  on  the  list  of  my  select 
authorities,  and  I  found  them  so  rich  in  broad  and  novel 
views,  I  extracted  from  them  such  treasures  of  infor- 
mation, that  my  compositions  immediately  showed  the 
effect,  and  secured  me  M.  Aveline's  commendation. 

Much  elated  by  this  success,  I  redoubled  my  efforts, 
without  saying  anything  of  my  discovery,  and  two  or  three 
times,  one  after  the  other,  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  taking 
first  place  from  Dutheil.  When  at  last  the  Easter  holi- 


PROPER  METHOD   OF   TEACHING   HISTORY.        21? 

days  arrived,  and  with  them  the  en<i  of  my  imprisonment, 
those  long  sojourns  in  a  room  full  of  books,  with  bound- 
less information  at  my  disposal,  had  become  to  me  such 
an  agreeable  habit,  that  what  before  was  an  intellectual 
luxury  was  now  a  necessity. 

Each  morning,  therefore,  after  the  breakfast  at  the 
family  table  where  I  sat  once  more  in  company  with  those 
dear  to  me,  Baudouin  and  I  would  set  out  for  the  centre 
of  Paris.  He  would  betake  himself  to  the  Louvre,  where 
he  had  obtained  permission  to  sketch,  and  spend  his  day 
in  reproducing  on  paper  the  finest  of  the  antique  marbles. 
As  for  me,  I  sped  away  to  the  Library  Sainte-Genevieve, 
where  I  devoured  the  works  of  Sismondi,  Augustin  Thi- 
erry, Henri  Martin,  and  Michelet.  At  four  o'clock  we 
met  at  the  Luxembourg  for  a  short,  sharp  game  of  football 
or  a  walk,  and  by  six  were  home  and  ready  for  our  dinner. 

Those  were  holidays  as  were  holidays  !  Baudouin  and  I 
would  not  have  grumbled  had  they  been  protracted  to  the 
end  of  time.  But  life  is  not  all  vacation,  more's  the  pity ! 

As  M.  Aveline  had  told  me  would  be  the  case,  I  was 
now  so  well  aquainted  with  the  principal  historical  works 
that  would  be  of  service  to  me  in  the  course  of  study  for 
the  year,  that  it  was  an  easy  matter  for  me  to  foretell,  a 
week  or  two  in  advance,  the  volumes  that  I  should  stand 
in  need  of ;  when  they  were  not  on  the  shelves  of  the 
library  of  the  lycee,  or  when  I  had  not  time  to  consult 
them  during  the  brief  daily  period  that  the  library  was 
open,  I  had  only  to  mention  their  titles  to  my  father,  who 
always  took  pleasure  in  procuring  them  for  me. 

I  soon  knew  the  delight  of  possessing  a  small  library  of 
my  own,  with  all  my  favourite  authors,  in  whose  company  I 
spent  many  a  happy  Sunday ;  this  was  the  nucleus  about 
which  gathered  the  modest  but,  in  my  eyes,  priceless  col- 


2l8  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

lection  of  books  among  which  I  still  continue  to  spend  so 
many  pleasant  hours. 

And  speaking  of  this,  I  often  wonder  how  it  is  that,  since 
the  invention  of  printing,  there  still  exist  such  multitudes 
of  people  who  are  continually  saying,  /  dorit  know  what 
to  do  with  myself !  as  if  there  were  not  books  in  abun- 
dance to  afford  them  pleasure,  distraction,  and  useful 
instruction,  all  at  the  same  time  ! 

As  for  me,  I  aver  that  never  in  my  life  was  I  bored  but 
once,  and  that  was  in  a  little  lonely  railway  station  on  an 
abominably  rainy  day,  when  I  had  left  my  travelling  bag 
with  all  my  books  behind  me  in  the  train  from  which  I 
had  just  descended.  As  it  was,  I  amused  myself  for  an 
hour  or  two  by  reading  the  rules  and  regulations  that 
were  posted  everywhere  on  the  walls. 

But  to  come  back  to  the  Lycee  Montaigne.  If  the  first 
semestre  had  brought  me  fewer  honours  than  punishments, 
during  the  ensuing  three  months,  I  am  happy  to  state,  I 
became  a  model  of  scholastic  virtue,  having  incurred  dis- 
grace but  once.  And  even  then  I  was  innocent.  Read 
and  judge  for  yourselves  ! 

Contrary  to  my  usual  habit,  I  had  conscientiously  done 
my  duty  by  the  panada  which  constituted  our  early  meal, 
when  Chavasse,  one  of  my  table  companions,  under  the 
inspiration  of  some  unfriendly  demon,  doubtless,  took  it 
in  his  head  to  exclaim  : 

"  The  devil  take  the  panada  !  Did  one  ever  see  such  a 
rotten  mess  !  " 

The  expression  was  overheard  by  an  usher,  who  turned 
on  us  as  if  he  had  been  stung  by  a  viper. 

"That  is  unparliamentary  language,  gentlemen,"  he 
said,  "  and  will  entitle  the  speaker  to  a  half-day's  confine- 
ment. I  require  a  'responsible.' ' 


MOLECULE    BROUGHT    OUT  THE  NUMBER    1132.     IT 
WAS   MINE  !  " 


€ 
OF  THE 
IVERSITT 
> 


PROPER  METHOD    OF   TEACHING   HISTORY.        221 

It  was  the  custom  at  the  Lycee.  Montaigne,  for  petty 
offences  like  the  present,  to  select  a  "responsible,"  or  one 
who  should  suffer  vicariously  for  the  rest ;  this  with  the 
intention  that  all  should  be  interested  in  the  maintenance 
of  order  and  discipline.  By  virtue  of  a  tacit  agreement 
between  us  it  was  also  understood  that  the  real  offender 
was,  under  no  circumstances,  to  reveal  his  identity.  Lots 
were  drawn  to  see  who  should  be  "responsible,"  and  he 
took  his  punishment  without  a  murmur.  Experience  had 
demonstrated  that  this  method  afforded  a  way  of  avoiding 
much  equivocation  and  recrimination,  while  at  the  same 
time  it  facilitated  the  position  of  the  expiatory  victim  with 
the  faculty  and  the  families  themselves.  How  could  one 
find  it  in  his  heart  to  be  angry  with  a  poor  boy  who 
said  : 

"  Theoretically,  I  am  innocent.  Practically,  we  drew 
lots  to  see  who  should  take  the  punishment,  and  it  was  I 
who  '  won  ! ' ; 

The  usher  had  no  more  than  pronounced  his  decree 
than  Thomereau,  with  a  zeal  that  appeared  of  doubtful 
taste,  collected  all  the  napkin-rings  on  the  table,  and, 
shaking  them  up  in  his  cap,  presented  them  to  Molecule, 
his  neighbour,  for  the  decision  of  the  lot. 

Molecule  brought  out  the  number  1132.  It  was 
mine  ! 

"  Monsieur  Besnard,  you  are  confined  to  quarters  until 
two  o'clock,"  said  the  usher,  inscribing  my  name  in  his 
memorandum  book. 

That  was  a  disgrace  for  which  I  certainly  had  no  cause 
to  blush,  and  it  has  never  troubled  my  conscience. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

IN    DEEP    WATER. 

SUMMER  is  upon  us  once  more.  It  is  only  a  few 
weeks  before  the  closing  exercises  and  the  examina- 
tions for  admission  to  the  great  schools.  You  should  see 
how  we  work  nowadays  in  Division  No.  I.  We  tug  and 
strain  at  the  collar,  and  everybody  "crams." 

Segol  will  only  talk  in  Latin  verse.  Dutheil  is  pale 
about  the  lips,  and  the  only  spot  of  red  in  his  broad  face 
is  the  eyes.  It  has  been  ascertained  that  he  sleeps  but 
half  the  night,  and  gets  up  surreptitiously  to  study  by  the 
light  of  the  night  lamp  in  the  dormitory. 

Molecule  restricts  himself  to  a  sonnet  or  two  a  day. 

Verschuren  himself  beholds  with  terror  the  approach 
of  the  moment  when  impartial  judges  will  compare  his 
merits  with  those  of  the  other  candidates  for  Saint-Cyr, 
and  spends  his  recess  going  about  among  his  comrades 
beseeching  them  to  ask  him  "  stumpers."  In  geography 
he  shows  remarkable  strength  in  regard  to  "basins,"  and 
in  "capitols  of  sous-prefectures"  is  without  a  rival. 

Perhaps  he  owes  this  superiority  to  a  peculiar  geog- 
raphy that  Thomereau  has  placed  in  circulation,  —  the 
French  department  subjected  to  the  treatment  that  the 
Marquis  de  Mascarille  would  have  inflicted  on  Roman 
history,  and  celebrated  not  only  in  verse  but  in  puns  and 
verbal  quibbles. 


XfS 

rHE 

(tfNIVERSITT 

^^^lFFQHH\fa^' 
IN  DEEP    WATER.  22$ 

"  The  Mans-Sarthe  (mansards,  garrets)  have  often  shel- 
tered poets—  That  means  that  le  Mans  is  the  capital 
of  the  department  of  la  Sarthe.  There  is  a  brilliant  effort 
like  this  for  each  one  of  the  departments. 

Nor  is  this  ingenious  system  of  mnemotechnics  con- 
fined to  geography.  Thomereau,  who  is  not  ambitious, 
and  will  be  content  so  that  he  captures  his  sheepskin,  no 
matter  by  what  means,  has  invented  similar  contrivances 
that  he  applies  to  all  sorts  of  subjects.  For  instance, 
instead  of  burdening  his  mind  with  the  names  of  the 
twelve  Roman  emperors,  he  finds  it  more  convenient  to 
engrave  on  his  memory  the  three  cabalistic  words, 

Cesautica,  ClaitnJgalo,  Vivestido, 

which  signify  Caesar,  Augustus,  Tiberius,  Caligula,  Clau- 
dius, Nero,  Galba,  Otho,  Vitellius,  Vespasian,  Titus,  Do- 
mitian. 

As  for  Baudouin,  he  continues  to  give  the  arts  his 
preference.  As  soon  as  he  has  completed  his  tasks  he 
sits  down  contentedly  to  copy  photographs  of  antique 
statuary,  engravings,  or  even  anatomical  charts. 

Finally,  as  regards  myself,  Latin  and  French  composi- 
tion and  history  claim  most  of  my  attention.  Every  day 
there  is  a  page  of  Bossuet,  a  page  of  Pascal,  and  a  page  of 
Cicero  to  be  learned  by  heart,  in  addition  to  the  diurnal 
lessons  and  exercises  and  my  historical  readings. 

Time  flies  with  astonishing  rapidity.  It  seems  as  if  we 
would  never  be  able  to  "  review"  all  the  studies  that  we 
are  expected  to  be  perfect  in  at  the  great  final  trial.  We 
grudge  the  hours  that  we  are  forced  to  lose  on  Sundays, 
and,  without  mentioning  the  matter  to  the  comrades,  carry 
away  a  volume  or  two  under  our  tunics  in  order  that  we 
may  "  grub  "  at  home. 


224  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

The  month  of  June  is  here.  The  heat  is  stifling.  In 
the  class-room,  notwithstanding  the  open  doors  and  win- 
dows, heads  seem  to  fairly  steam  and  smoke  under  the 
tension  of  the  unceasing  labour.  It  is  the  fashion  to 
wear  the  hair  cropped  close,  and  we  resemble  a  collection 
of  Dutch  cheeses. 

"  It  looks  more  businesslike,"  Dutheil  assures  us,  "  and 
tends  to  give  the  examiners  a  good  opinion  of  you." 

It  is  also  more  convenient  for  the  cold  bath,  and  the 
cold  bath  is  our  weak  spot.  We  love  it  to  distraction. 

Twice  a  week,  on  Tuesdays  and  Fridays,  we  rise  at 
four  in  the  morning.  We  hurry  on  our  clothes,  we  follow 
the  line  of  the  quays,  and  ascend  as  far  as  the  Bridge  of 
Austerlitz,  where  a  great  bathing  establishment,  floored 
with  wood,  is  reserved  until  seven  o'clock  for  the  exclu- 
sive use  of  the  lycee.  The  distance  is  considerable,  but 
the  water  is  much  cleaner  than  at  the  Pont-Neuf  or  the 
Pont-Royal,  where  the  sewers  of  the  great  city  disgorge 
their  tribute. 

Oh,  the  beneficent  cool  water!  and  how  good  it  feels 
to  dip  one's  head  under  the  limpid  stream  !  The  Girafe 
is  never  empty ;  there  is  an  endless  chain  of  swimmers 
storming  its  defences  on  their  way  to  the  platform.  Look 
out  for  your  heads,  and  woe  to  the  late  comers !  Scarcely 
has  one  diver  cleft  the  wave,  as  Molecule  says,  who  is 
nothing  if  not  classic  in  his  language,  than  another  is  on 
his  heels.  And  how  they  shout  and  laugh  !  Why  can't 
we  have  such  a  jolly  time  every  morning  ? 

"  I  have  an  idea,"  Baudouin  said  to  me  one  day.  "  You 
have  noticed  the  skylight  over  the  toilet  -  room  at  the 
bottom  of  the  dormitory  ?  Well,  the  first  time  you  find 
the  skylight  open,  hoist  yourself  up  by  your  hands,  use 
your  eyes,  and  tell  me  what  you  see." 


IN  DEEP    WATER.  22$ 

I  did  as  Baudouin  directed,  and  beheld,  immediately 
under  me,  the  most  magnificent  bath-tub  that  one  could 
dream  of  in  all  Paris !  It  was  a  public  reservoir  for  sup- 
plying the  quarter,  a  hundred  metres  long  by  forty  or  fifty 
wide,  filled  with  cold,  clear,  translucent  water,  up  to  the 
level  of  the  second  story  of  the  lycee.  As  our  quarters 
were  no  higher  than  the  third  story,  Baudouin' s  idea 
needed  no  further  explanation.  All  devotees  of  the  cold 
bath  will  understand  to  what  acts  of  madness  the  passion 
may  lead. 

The  very  next  night  saw  us  at  work. 

Three  o'clock  had  struck  and  the  sky  was  already 
beginning  to  be  tinted  with  the  pearly  hues  of  the  coming 
dawn  when,  gliding  noiselessly  into  the  toilet-room,  the 
door  of  which,  opening  on  .the  dormitory,  was  always 
open,  we  raised  ourselves  to  the  roof  through  the  glazed 
skylight.  From  there  to  make  our  way  down  to  the 
broad  walk,  formed  by  the  massive  masonry  that  enclosed 
the  basin  and  protected  the  adjoining  buildings,  was 
merely  child's  play  for  us ;  all  we  had  to  do  was  to  hang 
by  the  gutter  and  let  ourselves  drop  a  distance  of  little 
more  than  two  metres. 

Our  retreat,  moreover,  was  assured  by  a  feed  pipe  of 
ample  dimensions  in  one  corner,  on  which  we  counted  to 
afford  us  a  safe  and  convenient  means  of  exit.  There 
was  a  joint  in  the  pipe  which  the  plumber  had  most 
obligingly  surrounded  with  a  great  ring  of  solder,  thus 
forming  a  veritable  ladder.  There  was  nothing  calculated 
to  frighten  us  there,  after  our  experience  in  the  gymnasium. 

On  closer  inspection,  the  reservoir  resembled  one  of 
those  great  graving-docks  that  are  met  with  in  seaports. 
Around  us  nothing  but  high,  white  walls  destitute  of 
windows,  the  silence  of  the  night  and  the  cool  breath 


226  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

of  the  morning.  A  little  inconstant  breeze  that  blew 
across  the  surface  of  the  slumbering  water,  ruffling  it  in 
spots,  gave  it  the  appearance  of  a  lake. 

In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  we  have  thrown  off 
the  few  garments  that  we  had  on ;  then,  one,  two,  three ! 
and  we  dive  headlong  ! 

Brrr  !  —  how  cold  it  is  !  That  spring  water,  constantly 
renewed  and  brought  to  the  spot  in  underground  conduits, 
doubtless  from  a  distance,  for  the  consumption  of  the 
quarter,  is  at  least  ten  degrees  colder  than  the  water  of 
the  Seine.  But  who  cares  !  the  pleasure  is  all  the  greater 
in  this  canicular  heat. 

The  time  passed  so  quickly  that  we  were  astounded  on 
hearing  the  clock  strike  four.  It  was  broad  day  by  this 
time. 

To  return  to  the  bank,  shiveringly  resume  our  linen 
garments,  and  return  by  the  way  we  came,  was  the  affair 
of  a  moment,  and  when  the  morning  drum  beat  we  were 
awakened  from  a  salutary  slumber.  No  one  even  sus- 
pected our  expedition. 

We  were  so  well  pleased  with  our  experience  that  we 
failed  not  to  repeat  it  on  the  ensuing  nights,  with  various 
modifications  and  improvements.  For  instance,  having 
noticed  that  our  aquatic  exercises  gave  us  a  ferocious 
appetite,  and  that  we  suffered  greatly  on  account  of  our 
inability  to  appease  it  until  the  seven  o'clock  breakfast,  we 
took  the  precaution  during  the  day  to  lay  aside  a  supply 
of  bread.  The  little  matutinal  luncheon  came  in  very 
acceptably,  and  afforded  an  additional  zest  to  our  nata- 
torial diversions. 

After  that  our  satisfaction  was  unalloyed,  and  we 
looked  down,  disdainfully,  on  the  pigmy  swimmers  of  the 
Pont  d'Austerlitz  in  their  wooden -bottomed  bath.  We 


IN  DEEP    WATER.  22  / 

even  came  to  neglect  entirely  what  we  now  called  that 
"  cheap  and  nasty  resort,"  the  swimming  -  school,  and 
to  stick  close  by  the  lycee  on  Wednesday  and  Friday 
mornings,  greatly  to  the  surprise  of  our  comrades. 

For  some  three  weeks  we  had  thus  been  utilizing  the 
drinking  water  of  the  indigenes  of  Chaillot  for  oiir  own 
pleasure,  and  nothing  had  happened  to  mar  our  enjoyment, 
when  one  morning,  right  in  the  middle  of  our  sport, 
Baudouin  suddenly  exclaimed  : 

"  It  Is  queer,  but  the  bank  of  the  reservoir  looks  to  be 
higher  than  it  was  a  little  while  ago !  " 

I  looked  in  the  direction  he  was  looking.  There  could 
be  no  mistake  about  it :  the  level  of  the  water  had  fallen 
considerably.  When  we  went  in  there  was  an  interval 
between  its  surface  and  the  top  of  the  retaining  wall  of 
not  more  than  twenty -five  or  thirty  centimetres.  Now 
that  interval  was  fully  two  metres. 

The  dimness  of  the  early  morning  light  could  alone 
explain  why  we  had  failed  to  notice  the  phenomenon 
sooner,  for  the  basin  appeared  now  to  be  not  more  than 
half  full,  as  when  a  dam  is  opened  to  draw  off  the  water 
of  a  pond. 

"Look  alive!"  I  said  to  Baudouin,  "or  we  sha' n't  be 
able  to  get  out." 

We  struck  out  vigorously  for  the  bank. 

Alas !  already  it  was  too  late.  The  brink  was  beyond 
our  reach,  and  the  slimy,  slippery  walls  of  the  reservoir, 
built  of  cut  stone  and  without  seam  or  crevice,  afforded 
us  no  hold. 

"  There  must  be  a  ring  somewhere,  a  grating,  or  iron- 
work of  some  description,"  Baudouin  calmly  said.  "  Let 's 
swim  easily  and  make  the  circuit  of  the  enceinte ;  we 
can't  fail  to  find  something  to  hold  on  by." 


228  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

We  proceeded  to  swim  slowly  round  the  basin,  like  gold- 
fish circumnavigating  their  little  world  behind  its  walls  of 
glass. 

There  was  no  sign  of  a  ring  or  grating,  nor  did  the 
least  support  of  any  kind  present  itself  to  our  prying 
glances.  But  on  the  other  hand  the  level  of  the  water 
continued  to  sink,  though  the  movement  was  so  slow  as 
to  be  imperceptible.  There  was  now  a  perpendicular 
surface,  of  a  smoothness  that  was  our  despair,  at  least 
three  metres  high,  between  us  and  the  brink.  The.  basin 
was  beginning  to  appear  strangely  narrow  and  confined. 

"  They  are  evidently  emptying  the  reservoir, '?  I  said  to 
Baudouin,  "and  the  longer  we  remain  here  the  more 
difficulty  we  shall  find  in  getting  out." 

"That  is  perfectly  clear.  So  clear  that  there  is  but 
one  thing  for  us  to  do,  —  wait  patiently  for  the  water  to 
flow  in  again,"  he  replied,  with  fine  imperturbability. 

"  It  does  n-t  look  as  if  there  were  much  prospect  of  its 
doing  so  at  present,"  I  rejoined,  stretching  myself  on  my 
back  and  floating. 

"That  is  a  good  idea!"  said  Baudouin.  "We  may 
have  some  hours  to  wait,  and  it  will  be  well  for  us  to 
husband  our  strength." 

So  we  floated  in  a  state  of  almost  perfect  quiescence, 
waiting  for  developments  and  turning  our  heads  from  time 
to  time  for  a  glance  at  the  walls  of  our  prison-house. 
They  were  rising  higher  and  higher,  like  the  hull  .of  a 
stranded  ship  left  bare  by  the  receding  tide,  while  the  sun, 
rising  over  the  roofs  of  the  neighbouring  houses,  was 
already  beginning  to  gild  their  crest.  We  heard  the  roll 
of  the  drum  and  the  shuffling  of  multitudinous  footsteps 
as  the  inmates  of  the  lycee  descended  the  staircase  of  the 
dormitories. 


IN  DEEP    WATER.  229 

The  clocks  struck  seven.  We  were  less  cheerful  than 
we  had  been.  The  cold  began  to  tell  on  us.  Our  limbs 
were  numb  and  stiff.  It  was  becoming  more  and  more 
difficult  to  keep  ourselves  afloat. 

"  If  we  had  only  thought  to  bring  our  victuals  with  us," 
said  Baudouin  with  a  reflective  air,  "  instead  of  leaving 
them  with  our  trousers  !  " 

But  that  was  a  vain  regret.  To  swim,  to  keep  swimming, 
therein  lay  our  only  hope  of  safety.  Our  punishment  was 
certainly  fitted  to  our  crime ! 

For  a  long  time  we  had  not  spoken  a  word  to  each 
other.  I  know  not  what  Baudouin' s  reflections  may  have 
been,  but  for  my  part  I  was  .conscious  of  a  growing  sensa- 
tion of  weakness.  It  was  not  only  that  I  had  not  strength 
to  keep  myself  afloat,  but  I  scarcely  desired  to  have  it. 

The  sun,  pouring  its  rays  on  our  bare  heads,  deranged 
my  thoughts,  blinded  me,  almost  drove  me  frantic.  I 
had  a  confused  feeling  that  I  was  going  to  drown,  and 
I  told  myself,  with  what  little  reflection  I  had  remaining, 
that  it  was  absurd  to  die  in  that  way,  without  profit  or 
glory,  at  the  bottom  of  a  cistern. 

Would  our  corpses  ever  be  recognized  ?  Would  the 
manner  of  our  death  ever  become  known  ? 

Suddenly  a  joyful  cry  broke  in  upon  the  ringing  in  my 
ears: 

"  I  have  touched  bottom  !  We  are  saved !  The 
reservoir  is  nearly  empty  !  " 

It  is  Baudouin's  voice,  and  his  call  gives  me  strength  to 
drag  myself  to  the  wall  and' support  myself  against  it.  It 
is  as  much  as  I  can  do.  But  for  him  I  feel  that  I  must  have 
gone  under  and  drowned  in  the  four  feet  of  water  that  re- 
main. But  he  sustains  me  and  speaks  words  of  cheer  to  me. 


230  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE, 

Fifteen  minutes  more  and  the  water  has  all  run  off. 
We  are  standing  dry-footed  among  the  debris  of  every 
kind  that  chance  or  the  winds  of  heaven  have  wafted 
thither :  rags,  old  shoes,  dead  leaves,  the  nameless  relics 
of  the  neighbouring  civilization.  We  have  fallen,  measuring 
our  length  on  the  stone  flooring,  and  roasting  in  the  sun- 
shine like  crocodiles  in  the  dry  bed  of  an  African  torrent. 
Fatigue  and  hunger  have  proved  too  much  for  our  resolu- 
tion. We  are  seized  with  an  unconquerable  desire  to 
sleep ;  we  resist,  but  ineffectually,  and  are  on  the  point  of 
yielding  to  that  slumber  which  would  be  death  under  the 
lethal  arrows  of  that  fiery  globe,  when  above  us,  fifteen 
metres  over  our  heads,  a  clatter  of  wooden  shoes  is  heard. 

Ah,  the  sweet  music  !  It  was  an  army  of  sweeps  and 
scavengers,  come  to  clear  out  the  reservoir. 

We  are  saved  !  But  at  the  cost  of  what  terrible  humilia- 
tion !  We  felt  that  it  would  have  been  a  distinct  blessing 
could  we  have  vanished  into  thin  air  when  it  became  neces- 
sary to  explain  to  the  foreman  of  the  gang  the  reason  of 
our  sorry  state,  endure  the  cruel  laughter  of  the  Auvergnats 
while  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  ladder  that  was  to  rescue  us 
from  our  plight,  and,  finally,  reenter  the  lycee  by  the  great 
door  under  the  unsympathizing  eye  of  the  concierge. 

The  three  days'  confinement  that  worthily  crowned  our 
achievements  was  nothing  compared  with  these  earlier 
troubles.  I  have  told  what  means  I  had  at  command  to 
alleviate  the  horrors  of  that  punishment.  I  have  only  a 
faint  recollection  of  the  four  or  five  days  of  fever  during 
which  we  alternately  burned  and  froze  on  a  cot  in  the 
hospital  of  the  lycee,  at  a  time  when  every  hour  was 
precious.  Fever  and  punishment  were  alike  well  earned. 

Where  are  you,  fatigues,  dangers,  sorrows  of  those 
happy  days  ?  Gone,  never  to  return  ! 


IT    W\^    AN    ARMY    OF    SWEEPS    AND    SCAVENGERS. 


OF  THE 

tJlTIVERSITY 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

EXAMINATIONS. HOW    KINDRED    SPIRITS    MEET. 

THE  time  of  supreme  effort  was  come,  the  exercises 
of  the  general  examination  had  begun.  Notwith- 
standing the  time  I  had  lost,  I  had  turned  the  last  months 
of  my  year  to  such  good  account  under  M.  Pellerin's 
guidance  that  I  felt  I  had  some  reason  to  be  hopeful.  I 
had  been  five  or  six  times  first  in  French  and  Latin  com- 
position, history,  and  Greek  translation,  and  second  more 
frequently.  With  Dutheil  and  Se"gol  I  was  now  consid- 
ered one  of  Montaigne's  champions. 

We  set  out  for  the  Sorbonne  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, shortly  after  we  came  down  from  the  dormitory. 
There  were  sixteen  of  us  in  our  little  band,  —  five  veterans, 
ten  freshmen,  and  a  "  stop-gap,"  or  alternate,  —  headed  by 
an  usher.  Each  one  of  us  had  breakfasted  off  a  cutlet  and 
a  cup  of  coffee,  and  had  in  addition  received  a  viaticum  in 
the  shape  of  a  roll,  a  piece  of  sausage  and  a  bottle  of  wine. 
These  aliments  were  confided  to  the  capacious  recesses  of 
the  classic  net. 

The  net !  is  it  not  the  epitome  of  the  whole  examina- 
tion for  three-fourths  of  the  contestants  ?  What  student 
would  not  think  he  was  marching  without  weapons  to  the 
conflict  unless  he  had  first  slung  this  poke  across  his 
shoulder,  dictionary  in  one  end,  sausage  in  the  other  ? 

But  it  is  not  everything  to  possess  a  net ;  it  must  also 
be  well  garnished.  As  we  passed  through  the  Rue  de 


234  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

Buci,  therefore,  we  failed  not  to  supplement  its  contents 
with  a  cold  chicken,  a  pate  with  crust  of  golden  brown, 
and,  perhaps,  a  supernumerary  bottle.  Those  of  a  sybaritic 
turn  added  cherries  and  even  pots  of  cream.  In  the  Rue 
Saint  -  Jacques  mention  is  still  occasionally  made  of  a 
young  voluptuary  who  came  in  one  morning  with  a  cargo 
of  bananas. 

On  that  day  the  subject  we  were  to  be  examined  on 
was  Latin  composition.  I  had  already  competed  for  the 
prize  in  history  and  French  composition,  so  that  the 
spectacle  no  longer  had  the  attraction  of  novelty  for  my 
eyes.  But  is  not  the  twentieth  review  in  which  a  soldier 
participates  as  interesting  to  him  as  the  first?  Little 
variety  as  the  scene  possessed,  I  contemplated  it  with 
unaltered  curiosity. 

It  was  nearly  seven  o'clock  when  we  came  out  on  the 
Place  Gerson,  in  the  midst  of  the  contingents  of  the  other 
lycees.  There  were  the  champions  of  Saint-Louis,  of 
Descartes,  of  Stanislas,  en  potache,  that  is  to  say  in  uni- 
form like  us  ;  the  Sainte-Barbes  in  roundabouts,  the  Con- 
dorcets  en  pekins,  the  Charlemagnes  in  attire  of  various 
descriptions.  Then  come  the  Rollins,  and  the  braves  of 
Louis-le-Grand.  Not  a  moment  passed  but  some  new 
detachment  came  marching  up.  Celebrities  were  recog- 
nized and  pointed  out  as  they  passed,  the  honour  men  of 
the  previous  year,  the  probable  victors  of  the  present  as 
designated  by  the  rumour  of  the  lycees.  .  The  noise  and 
chatter,  in  the  narrow  place  shut  in  on  three  sides  by 
lofty  buildings,  was  like  the  buzzing  of  a  swarm  of 
bees. 

The  black  damp  walls  of  the  venerable  Sorbonne,  its 
back  turned  to  the  rising  sun,  in  the  bright  crisp  morning 
air  resembled  the  facade  of  some  necropolis.  A  necropolis 


"  WE    CAME    OUT    ON    THE    PLACE    GERSON. 


UNIVERSITY 


EX  A  MINA  TIONS.  237 

of  traditions  and  memories,  at  all  events !  On  how  many 
generations  of  schoolboys,  pressing  forward  like  us  in 
close  array,  eager,  impatient,  ambitious,  had  not  those  old 
walls  looked  down,  and  how  many  more  were  they  yet 
to  behold  ere  they  should  crumble  away  in  dust !  Look- 
ing at  them,  with  their  grimy,  weather-beaten  face,  the 
thought  rose  to  one's  mind  that,  could  they  talk,  what 
tales  they  might  tell  of  the  scholars  of  bygone  times,  our 
predecessors  of  four  centuries  ago,  concerning  whom  the 
grave  M.  Quicherat  has  given  us  such  realistic  details  : 


"  Save  for  the  professor's  chair,  the  classes  had  neither  benches 
nor  seats  of  any  kind.  The  floor  was  strewn  with  straw  in  winter, 
with  fresh-cut  grass  in  the  summer  season.  The  scholars  wallowed 
in  this  litter,  ostensibly  for  reasons  of  humility.  Their  uniform,  a 
long  loose  gown,  belted  to  the  form  with  a  leather  strap,  served  the 
twofold  purpose  of  collecting  and  concealing  filth.  In  the  refectory 
during  meals  it  was  forbidden  (the  reader  will  pardon  the  crudity  of 
this  historical  detail) ,  it  was  forbidden  to  raise  the  hand  to  the  cap, 
such  was  the  fear  inspired  by  the  condition  of  the  young  men's 
heads !  " 


All  those  old  memories  came  crowding  back  upon  my 
mind  during  those  few  minutes  of  silent  waiting.  The 
strange  faces  of  my  comrades  of  a  day  gave  me  the  im- 
pression of  a  race  of  shadows.  Casting  my  eyes  up  to 
the  antique  clock  set  in  the  sombre  facade,  I  experienced 
the  same  superstitious  thrill  that  made  my  flesh  creep  in 
presence  of  the  Egyptian  and  Assyrian  colossi  in  the 
galleries  of  the  Louvre.  Even  the  great  mouldering  door 
before  which  we  were  drawn  up,  and  whose  twin  leaves 
remained  mysteriously  closed,  —  as  if  it  had  been  the 
mouth  of  a  granite  sphinx,  —  contributed  to  add  to  this 
effect  and  to  inspire  me  with  a  secret  awe. 


238  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

It  is  seven  o'clock  at  last.  The  two  leaves  of  the  door 
are  thrown  back  with  a  clash  and  clatter  of  iron  bars 
and  creaking  of  rusty  hinges.  The  great  hall  where  the 
examinations  are  held  appears  before  us,  bare  as  a  meeting- 
house, its  white  walls  pierced  with  lofty  windows. 

At  the  end  of  the  central  aisle  is  the  desk  appropriated 
to  the  judges,  all  emeritus  professors,  all  in  stiff  white 
cravats.  On  either  side  are  pine  tables,  a  score  or  so, 
arranged  in  parallel  lines  and  furnished  with  inkstands, 
while  drawn  up  around  them  a  regiment  of  decrepit  chairs 
provide  seating  accommodation.  All  these  articles  of 
furniture  are  discoloured  by  time  and  ink  stains,  and  bear 
innumerable  dates  and  names  more  or  less  artistically 
carved  by  students'  jack-knives. 

We  enter  with  a  rush.  Each  of  us  resumes  his  indi- 
viduality and  seats  himself  where  he  can  find  a  place, 
regardless  of  all  distinction  of  schools  and  lycees.  The 
ushers,  nothing  loath  to  avail  themselves  of  the  half-holiday 
that  the  occasion  gives  them,  vanish  with  celerity.  The 
door  on  the  Place  Gerson  is  closed.  And  now  there  shall 
be  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth  among  the  belated  ones, 
if  any  such  there  be  ! 

As  I  was  turning  the  corner  of  the  first  unoccupied 
table  that  I  met  with,  I  came  face  to  face  with  a  young  lad 
very  plainly  dressed  in  the  civilian  costume  of  one  of  those 
institutions  which  follow  the  curriculum  of  the  lycees. 
We  look  at  each  other  blankly,  then  an  exclamation  of 
astonishment  bursts  simultaneously  from  the  lips  of  each  : 

"Besnard!  " 

"  Mounerol !  " 

It  was  my  old  friend  Criquet,  of  Chatillon,  whom  I 
en-countered  so  unexpectedly  on  the  field  of  battle.  He 
had  grown  much  taller  in  the  last  year,  but  had  not  parted 


EX  AMI N A  TIONS.  2  39 

with  the  sun-browned  complexion  and  those  black  almond- 
shaped  eyes  that  gave  him  the  appearance  of  a  little 
Arab. 

"  What,  you  here  ?  I  did  n't  so  much  as  know  you  were 
in  Paris." 

"  I  have  been  attending  the  Lauraguais  school  for  the 
last  eight  months  on  a  free  scholarship." 

During  the  few  seconds  consumed  in  this  rapid  inter- 
change of  words  the  benches  had  all  rilled  up.  Criquet 
and  I  took  our  places  at  the  last  vacant  table,  within  a  step 
or  two  of  the  door. 

•  "  I  am  awfully  glad  to  see  you ! "  I  said  to  him. 

"  So  am  I,  too,  you  can  just  bet !  But  it  won't  do  to 
stand  here  talking,  the  dictation  is  about  to  begin." 

Dictionaries  and  writing  materials  had  already  been 
taken  from  the  nets  and  spread  upon  the  tables.  An 
attendant,  passing  down  the  aisle,  distributed  to  us  blank 
forms  of  goodly  proportions,  having  a  wide  margin  and  a 
printed  heading.  The  latter  read  as  follows  : 

UNIVERSITE    DE    FRANCE. 

CONCOURS  GENERAL. 
CLASS  IN 

Mr.  (State  name  in  full.) 

of  the  Lycee 

born  at  ,  department  of 

the  day  of  ,   18 — . 

Beneath  was  a  blank  space  over  which  the  printed 
matter  was  to  be  turned  down  after  the  student  had  filled 
in  the  information  desired,  and  a  black  line.  This  head- 
ing, detached  by  the  gentlemen  at  the  desk,  and  by  them 
inscribed  with  a  number  corresponding  with  one  which 


240  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

they  have  previously  placed  on  the  margin  of  the  blank 
form,  is  locked  away  in  a  box  where,  together  with  all  the 
others,  it  is  kept  until  the  day  when  the  judges  officially 
report  the  results  of  the  examination. 

A  professor,  the  dean  of  the  faculty,  rose  to  state  the 
subject  on  which  we  were  to  write.  There  was  a  shuffling 
of  feet  and  a  tentative  scratching  of  pens  on  paper,  suc- 
ceeded by  a  profound  silence.  Then  the  dean  spoke  in  a 
clear,  sonorous  voice  : 

"  Horatii  Flacci  ad  Tibullum  epistola—  "  was  what  he 
said. 

A  low  murmur  rose,  the  contestants'  various  and 
probably  conflicting  opinions  on  the  merits  of  the  subject. 
Then  the  dictation  went  on  :  Tibullus,  on  his  return  from 
the  Gallic  war,  was  congratulated  by  Horace.  The  poet 
availed  himself  of  his  opportunity  to  recall  the  supposi- 
titious exploits  of  his  friend  in  the  suite  of  General  Vale- 
rius Messala,  and  to  give,  in  a  few  masterly  strokes,  a 
history  of  the  campaign.  Then,  returning  homeward,  he 
glanced  at  Italy  and  the  profound  peace  that  had  succeeded 
the  civil  dissensions.  He  drew  a  glowing  picture  of  Roman 
civilization,  an  eulogy,  however,  whose  fervour  was  some- 
what chilled  by  satiric  observations  on  the  men  and 
measures  of  the  time.  Coming  back,  presently,  to  Ti- 
bullus's  personal  affairs,  he  condoled  with  him  for  having, 
like  Virgil,  been  plundered  by  rapacious  legionaries  of  a 
portion  of  his  wealth,  but  at  the  same  time  he  commended 
him  for  having  sought  in  the  pursuits  of  literature  enjoy- 
ments that  no  human  power  could  take  from  him.  Finally, 
he  recommended  him  henceforth  to  eschew  the  fatigues  of 
war,  and,  on  his  estate  of  Pedum,  enjoy  that  golden  medi- 
ocrity which  is  the  true  atmosphere  of  happiness. 

When  the  reading  came  to   an    end,  there  was    again 


.DIVERSITY 


EX  AM  IN  A  TIONS.  24  1 

throughout  the  hall  a  breeze  of  emotion  and  diverse  senti- 
ments. But  silence  was  restored  almost  immediately. 
Every  one  had  applied  himself  to  work. 

For  my  part,  I  laid  my  arm  flat  upon  the  table  and 
bowed  my  head  upon  it,  and  then  bent  all  the  powers  of 
my  imagination  on  the  subject  that  had  been  assigned 
to  us.  I  certainly  was  not  like  Petit-Jean  in  les  Plaideurs, 
and  I  could  not  have  said  : 

"  Ce  que  je  sais  le  mieux,  c*est  mon  commencement  /" 

What  kind  of  exordium  should  I  select  ?  An  exordium 
ex  abrupt  'o,  like  Cicero's  opening  of  his  First  against  Cat- 
iline ?  It  always  takes,  because  with  it  one  is  certain  to 
capture  the  attention  of  the  reader.  But  was  it  in  accord 
with  the  situation  in  the  present  case  ?  Manifestly,  no. 
Horace,  in  the  calm  repose  of  his  study,  takes  his  stylus  to 
indite,  for  his  friend's  benefit,  an  academic  dissertation  on 
the  questions  of  the  day.  In  addition  to  the  fact  that  he 
is  naturally  the  mildest  and  most  moderate  of  men,  he  has 
no  motive  for  lashing  himself  into  a  fury.  The  exordium 
ex  abnipto  would  appear  to  be  more  particularly  adapted 
to  the  expression  of  anger,  of  indignation,  real  or  simu- 
lated. We  must,  therefore,  try  something  else  here.  An 
exordium  by  insinuation  f  That  will  not  answer,  either. 
Insinuatingness  will  do  very  well  for  an  orator  who  is  not 
sure  of  his  audience,  who  desires  to  capture  its  good-will 
or  simply  its  ear,  to  prepossess  or  to  seduce  it.  But  a 
poet,  and  such  a  poet  !  writing  to  a  man  of  taste  and  learn- 
ing like  Tibullus,  may  be  supposed  to  disdain  such  petty 
artifices.  He  knows  that  he  will  be  read.  The  best 
course  to  pursue,  therefore,  is  to  begin  in  a  perfectly 
simple  and  natural  manner,  setting  forth  the  ideas  in 
proper  sequence  as  they  rise  to  the  mind. 


242  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

That  is  one  point  settled.  And  now,  what  was  the  role 
that  Tibullus  probably  played  in  that  war  with  the  Gauls  ? 
A  Roman  knight,  a  man  of  epicurean  tastes,  and  the  close 
friend  of  the  commanding  general,  it  is  not  likely  that  he 
had  much  experience  of  the  real  toils  of  the  campaign  ; 
he,  doubtless,  made  it  as  a  spectator  rather  than  as  a  sol- 
dier, and  his  name  will  not  be  found  mentioned  in  the 
orders  of  the  day.  But  Horace  is  too  discreet  and  too 
well-bred  to  dwell  on  so  delicate  a  point.  He  will,  there- 
fore, extend  to  Tibullus  his  twofold  congratulations,  on 
having  borne  a  part  in  great  events  and  on  being  able  to 
relate  them.  At  need,  he  will  turn  the  shafts  of  his  good- 
natured  irony  against  himself,  reminding  his  correspondent 
that  his  own  military  experience  was  not  sufficiently  g;lori- 
ous  to  justify  him  in  criticising  the  deeds  of  others. 

In  this  manner  I  was  reviewing  my  subject  in  all  its 
branches,  endeavouring  to  saturate  my  mind  with  it  and 
grouping  in  memory  the  various  details  with  which  I  pro- 
posed to  ornament  it,  when  the  clock  of  the  Sorbonne, 
striking  eight  with  loud,  metallic  clang,  suddenly  reminded 
me  that  I  had  not  yet  written  a  word.  The  scratching  of 
pens  flying  over  the  paper  on  every  side  warned  me  that 
my  comrades  were  already  at  their  work.  I  seized  mine, 
and,  dipping  it  in  the  inkstand,  proceeded  to  develop  my 
theme. 

The  first  lines  came  with  difficulty.  But,  after  a  few 
minutes,  I  became  master  of  the  situation  ;  I  identified 
myself  with  my  hero,  and  my  task  ceased  to  be  laborious. 
Words  came  to  me  in  serried  battalions,  my  thoughts 
flowed  in  lucid  order.  I  gave  myself  up  heart  and  soul 
to  my  task. 

For  two  hours  I  had  been  driving  my  pen  continuously, 
and  was  just  entering  on  the  concluding  paragraph  of  my 


EXAMINA  TIONS.  243 

first  rough  draft,  when  a  general  movement  throughout 
the  room  caused  me  to  raise  my  head.  The  gentlemen 
at  the  desk  had  retired  to  an  adjoining  apartment,  where 
breakfast  was  awaiting  them,  and  a  universal  clatter  of 
plates  and  bottles  announced  that  the  students  were  pre- 
paring to  follow  the  good  example  set  them  by  their 
superiors.  There  were  some  jaws,  indeed,  that  had  not 
even  waited  thus  long  to  set  to  work. 

My  appetite  awoke  by  a  sort  of  gregarious  instinct,  and 
I  remembered  that  I,  too,  had  in  my  cupboard  the  where- 
withal to  effect  an  agreeable  diversion  to  my  mental 
labours.  Now,  or  never,  was  the  moment  to  tear  Criquet 
from  his  labours.  He  had  not  once  raised  his  nose  from 
the  paper  ;  he  wrote,  wrote,  wrote,  as  if  his  life  depended 
on  it. 

"  You  don't  intend  to  keep  this  up  until  three  o'clock  ; 
it  will  be  too  long  for  you  to  go,"  I  said  to  him,  in  an 
undertone.  "  Come,  rest  awhile ;  we  '11  make  common 
stock  of  our  provision,  and  have  breakfast." 

Criquet  looked  at  me,  and  laughed. 

"  I  warn  you  that  it  will  be  a  losing  operation  for  you," 
he  said.  "  All  I  have  is  a  crust  of  bread  and  a  bit  of 
cheese.  Dame  !  they  don't  overfeed  us  at  the  Lauraguais 
school !  " 

"  Good  !  "  I  replied,  "  you  need  not  let  that  worry  you. 
I  have  sausage  sufficient  for  two,  wine  for  four,  and  pate 
for  six.  Get  ready  your  mandibles  !  " 

I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  enjoyed  a  breakfast  more. 
The  excitement  of  the  contest,  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
an  old  comrade  of  Chatillon  days,  and  one  of  those  in 
whom  I  was  most  interested,  the  novelty  of  the  improvised 
luncheon  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  venerable  edifice,  all, 
even  to  the  necessity  of  carrying  on  a  fragmentary  con- 


244  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

versation  in  mysteriously  low  tones,  contributed  to  make 
me  find  a  special  enjoyment  in  the  little  fete. 

The  hall,  at  that  moment,  presented  a  strange  spectacle. 
The  nets  had  all  been  emptied  on  the  tables,  and  among 
their  contents  were  pates  enough  to  stock  several  shops. 
Some  more  luxurious  ones  —  they  were  most  likely  from 
Condorcet  —  had  travelling  panniers  equipped  with  a 
complete  table  -  service,  plates,  knives,  forks,  drinking 
glass,  and  napkin.  On  the  other  hand,  immature  Diogenes 
were  seen  devouring  suspicious-looking  victuals  that  they 
took  with  their  fingers  from  paper  bags.  One  original, 
manifestly  with  an  eye  to  effect,  fried  eggs  on  a  tin  plate 
over  a  fire  of  paper.  Some  were  reading  over  and  cor- 
recting their  copy,  while  breakfasting.  For  the  great 
majority,  however,  this  Rabelaisian  interlude  was  evidently 
the  most  important  episode  of  the  day.  There  were  some 
who  vented  their  excess  of  animal  spirits  in  an  irregular 
way,  by  bombarding  with  pellets  of  bread  such  faces  as 
did  not  please  them. 

Criquet  was,  evidently,  much  more  preoccupied  with 
his  Latin  theme  than  with  our  breakfast,  and,  notwith- 
standing his  efforts  to  respond  to  my  attentions,  appeared 
anxious  to  get  back  to  his  work.  I  soon  saw  that  I  should 
be  indiscreet  in  keeping  him  longer  from  his  task. 

"  We  can  talk  more  comfortably  when  it  is  all  over, 
can't  we  ? " 

"  That  is  so  ! ';  he  said,  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  I  will  go 
with  you  when  we  are  dismissed,  if  you  wish  ;  I  have 
permission  to  return  alone." 

This  speech  enlightened  me  as  to  the  present  situation 
of  my  former  friend  and  comrade.  I  knew  that  the  priv- 
ilege he  spoke  of,  together  with  that  of  occupying  a 
separate  chamber,  in  private  institutions  is  generally 


EXAMINA  TIONS.  24$ 

granted  only  to  pupils  of  conspicuous  merit,  and  whose 
chances  of  success  at  the  concours  are  considered  excep- 
tionally good. 

"  So,  he  retains  at  Paris  the  superiority  that  he  acquired 
over  us  all  at  Chatillon  ? "  I  said  to  myself.  Then,  seeing 
that  I  was  letting  my  laziness  get  the  better  of  me  :  "'But 
he  is  right,  though,  —  he  takes  the  only  road  to  success, 
never  to  waste  a  minute !  " 

And  I  set  to  work  again.  This  time  I  never  raised  my 
head  until  the  very  last  second,  when  the  attendant  came 
round  to  collect  the  papers. 

Mounerol  was  re-reading  his,  perhaps  for  the  fiftieth 
time.  He  parted  with  it,  regretfully,  and  only  at  the  ex- 
treme limit  of  time,  when  the  judges,  after  five  or  six  final 
summonses,  were  making  ready  to  retire. 

"  Well,  are  you  satisfied  ?  "  I  asked  him  at  the  threshold. 

"  Faith,  no.  I  never  had  a  subject  that  pleased  me  less. 
And  you  ? " 

"  With  me  it  is  exactly  the  reverse.  I  liked  the  subject. 
But  you  are  not  to  understand  by  that  that  I  think  my 
essay  will  gain  the  prize  !  " 

According  to  promise,  Criquet  accompanied  me  to  the 
door  of  the  Lycee  Montaigne.  It  was  during  the  transit 
that  I  learned  those  particulars  of  his  history  that  I  was 
ignorant  of. 

He  had  been  admitted  to  the  Lauraguais  school  on  a 
free  scholarship,  or,  as  he  expressed  it  in  his  frank  and 
picturesque  language,  as  a  bete  a  concours.  In  return 
for  the  gratuitous  board  and  instruction  that  he  received 
there,  he  was  expected  to  enhance  the  reputation  of  the 
school  by  successes  at  the  lycee  and  the  Sorbonne.  He 
had  therefore  worked  with  all  his  might  during  the  entire 
year. 


246  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  It  was  our  old  principal  at  Chatillon,  M.  Ruette,  who 
procured  me  that  favour.  I  am  very  grateful  to  him  for 
it,  and  to  M.  Lauraguais,  too.  But  I  can  tell  you,  there 
are  moments  when  the  obligation  weighs  on  me  terribly. 
It  seems  to  me  that,  unless  I  secure  the  prize,  I  shall  have 
been  stealing  the  bread  that  I  have  been  eating.  And 
who  can  count  with  any  certainty  on  success  at  a  general 
examination  ? " 

"  Bah  !  you  must  not  entertain  such  ideas.  When  one 
has  done  his  best  he  has  nothing  to  reproach  himself  with. 
If  you  gain  no  prizes  at  the  concours,  you  will  have  plenty 
at  your  lycee  —  By  the  way,  how  is  your  grandfather  ? 
do  you  ever  hear  from  him  ? "  I  asked,  desirous  to  change 
.a  subject  that  seemed  painful  to  Mounerol. 

"  Regularly,  every  month.  He  is  very  well  and  perfectly 
happy  since  he  was  enabled  to  open  a  little  shop  on  the 
Cours.  I  am  trying  awfully  hard  to  fit  myself  for  a 
teacher,  so  I  can  have  him  with  me." 

"  Ah !  then  that  is  settled.  You  are  going  to  be  a 
teacher?" 

"  I  don't  see  anything  better  that  I  can  do.  But  that 
is  also  the  opinion  of  M.  Ruette  and  those  who  take  an 
interest  in  me." 

While  the  brave  fellow  was  telling  me  of  his  projects 
for  the  future,  I  involuntarily  recalled  the  image  of  little 
Criquet,  as  he  had  appeared  to  Baudouin  and  me  on  the 
occasion  of  our  first  discovering  him  in  the  garret,  sur- 
rounded by  three  hundred  pairs  of  shoes  that  he  had  to 
clean. 

In  the  midst  of  my  reflections  we  came  to  the  Rue  de 
Chaillot. 

"  Will  you  come  and  dine  with  us  on  Sunday  ? "  I 
asked  Mounerol  as  we  were  about  to  part.  "  I  can't 


EXAMINA  TIONS.  247 

tell  you  how  pleased  I  and  all  my  family  will  be  to  have 
you." 

I  gave  him  our  address  at  Billancourt.  He  promised 
to  be  punctual,  and  only  left  me  at  the  door  of  the  lycee. 

Baudouin  was  impatiently  awaiting  my  arrival. 

"  Well,  how  about  that  Latin  composition  ?  "  he  shouted, 
as  soon  as  he  saw  me  enter  the  courtyard.  "Are  you  satis- 
fied with  yourself  ? " 

By  way  of  answer  I  gave  him  my  rough  draft,  which 
varied  little  from  the  corrected  copy  except  toward  the 
end.  He  read  it  attentively,  then  came  nearer  to  me. 

"  My  little  man,  you  have  the  prize  of  honour,"  he  said 
to  me,  in  perfect  seriousness.  "  Nobody,  I  don't  care  who 
he  is,  can  have  written  four  pages  of  Latin  superior  to 
that." 

M.  Pellerin,  who  came  along  presently,  looking  for 
news,  was  also  of  opinion  that  my  paper  was  good  and  that 
there  might  be  a  chance  for  me.  That  was  much  the  way 
I  looked  at  the  matter  myself,  to  be  quite  frank,  and  what 
confirmed  me  in  my  opinion  was  that  Dutheil,  by  univer- 
sal consent,  had  never  done  so  poorly. 

"  After  all,  why  should  n't  I  have  it,  that  prize  of  hon- 
our ?"  I  said  to  myself. 

I  dropped  off  to  sleep  sinking  in  imagination  under  my 
load  of  crowns.  And  appended  to  my  paper  was  this  note, 
which  did  not  figure  on  my  rough  draft  —  a  performance 
of  utmost  excellence ! 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

CONTAINING  MANY  SURPRISES. 

"/^ENTLEMEN,"  Dutheil  said  to  us  one  day  late  in 
VJ"  July,  "  it  is  absolutely  impossible  to  get  another 
sou  into  our  bank.  It  is  gorged  with  riches,  abundat 
divitiis,  as  Lhomond  says.  What  shall  we  do  —  start  a 
fresh  one  ? " 

"  No  !  No  !  "  the  whole  class  cried  in  chorus.  "  Smash 
the  jug,  and  close  the  account !  " 

It  may  be  as  well  to  explain  that  the  "jug"  in  question 
was  the  receptacle  of  the  cagnotte,  a  great  earthenware 
child's  saving's-bank,  in  which  the  product  of  our  fines, 
transformed  into  pieces  of  one,  two,  and  even  five  francs, 
was  deposited  nightly  by  the  methodical  Dutheil. 

There  was  also  a  cash-book,  kept  by  Payan,  in  which  all 
payments  to  the  fund  were  regularly  inscribed  and  which 
might  serve  to  verify  the  account,  if  it  should  ever  be  con- 
sidered necessary.  No  one  had  the  remotest  idea  of  the 
total  we  might  have  reached.  Certain  persons  had  of  late 
evinced  a  disposition  to  proceed  to  the  autopsy  of  the  jug, 
but  it  had  always  met  with  violent  opposition,  and,  the 
advice  of  the  moderate  party  prevailing,  the  operation  had 
been  deferred.  For  the  first  time  the  class  was  now  unan- 
imous on  the  affirmative  side  of  the  question. 

"  I  demand  that,  before  the  safe  is  opened,  Payan  give 


CONTAINING   MANY  SURPRISES.  249 

us  the  footing  of  his  account,"  said  Dutheil.  "  If  his 
total  and  my  money  agree,  there  will  be  no  room  for 
suspicion." 

This  desire  was  too  reasonable  not  to  be  complied  with 
at  once.  A  long  silence  ensued,  which  was  finally  broken 
by  Payan,  exclaiming : 

"Six  hundred  and  twenty-eight  francs,  forty  centimes." 

It  was  incredible  ;  the  amount  exceeded  by  at  least  a 
third  the  most  daring  estimates.  Think  of  the  misde- 
meanours represented  by  that  sum,  realized  in  less  than 
ten  months  in  a  class  of  between  twenty  and  thirty 
pupils ! 

"We  will  now  proceed  to  verify  those  figures,"  said 
Dutheil,  more  agitated  than  he  cared  to  let  it  appear. 

To  him,  too,  the  amount  seemed  heavy.  If  there 
should  be  a  shortage  —  if  there  should  not  be  that  much 
money  in  the  cagnotte  ! 

We  drew  lots  to  see  who  should  strike  the  blow  that 
was  to  end  the  existence  of  the  jug,  which  was  placed  on 
the  floor  exactly  in  the  middle  of  the  class-room  on  a 
great  sheet  of  drawing-paper.  Fortune  smiled  on  Ver- 
scharen,  who  smote,  with  a  mighty  blow,  the  plethoric 
abdomen  of  the  receptacle.  It  flew  in  fragments,  and  a 
torrent  of  silver  coins  overflowed  upon  the  ground. 
These  had  to  be  examined,  assorted,  arranged  in  piles, 
and  counted.  The  work  occupied  two  tellers  for  a  full 
half  hour. 

At  length  the  task  was  finished.  An  imposing  array 
of  two  and  five  franc  pieces,  carefully  assorted,  gave  the 
preposterous  total  of  six  hundred  and  forty -three  francs, 
fifty  centimes,  —  fifteen  francs  and  ten  centimes  more  than 
Payan's  cash-book  called  for. 

Dutheil  was  radiant  and  Payan  dumfounded. 


250  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  That 's  what  comes  of  studying  the  higher  mathe- 
matics," observed  Thomereau ;  "  one  becomes  incapable 
of  adding  up  a  column  of  figures !  " 

"Gentlemen,"  Payan  declared,  "there  is  something 
abnormal  here,  and  it  must  be  looked  into.  It  must  be 
that  some  anonymous  philanthropist  has  been  paying  in 
fines  that  he  never  incurred !  It  is  contrary  to  all  prec- 
edent. We  might  reasonably  have  expected  that  at 
least  ten  per  cent,  of  the  contents  of  the  jug  would  have 
been  found  to  consist  of  trouser  buttons  and  Swiss  silver ; 
for  the  cagnotte  to  pay  more  than  it  received  is  simply 
miraculous." 

"  Parbleu  !  "  exclaimed  Baudouin,  "  Dutheil  chipped  in 
a  little  something  from  time  to  time,  fearing  he  might 
be  short." 

"  Let 's  drop  this  useless  inquiry,"  said  Dutheil,  blush- 
ing violently,  which  would  seem  to  indicate  that  Baudouin 
had  guessed  aright,  "and  proceed  to  business.  What 
shall  we  do  with  all  this  money  ? " 

"  First  of  all,  exchange  it  for  currency  of  a  less 
Lacedaemonian  character,"  Verscharen  suggested. 

Agreed  to  unanimously. 

"  It  might  be  distributed  through  the  medium  of  a 
lottery,"  hazarded  Segol. 

Rejected  indignantly. 

"  How  would  it  do  to  spend  it  for  fireworks  to  be  let 
off  in  the  street  on  the  day  of  the  distribution  of 
prizes  ? " 

Moderate  enthusiasm. 

"  Build  a  great  launch  to  hold  thirty-one  and  take  the 
wind  out  of  the  sails  of  all  the  boat  clubs  of  the  Seine 
and  Marne  ? " 

"  No !  " 


CONTAINING   MANY  SURPRISES.  2$1 

"Yes!" 

"  A  great  idea  !  " 

"  It  is  idiotic  !  " 

"  Down  with  the  launch  !  " 

"  Hurrah  for  the  launch  !  " 

"  What  do  you  say  to  dividing  the  fund  among  our- 
selves ? " 

"  Order,  order !  —  it  is  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  the 
institution." 

"  Institute  a  prize  of  virtue  for  the  usher  who  inflicts 
the  fewest  punishments  !  " 

"Virtue  is  its  own  reward." 

Here  poor  Chavasse  succeeded  at  last  in  getting  in  a 
word.  "Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "it  seems  to  me  that  it 
has  already  been  decided  how  the  cagnotte  is  to  be  em- 
ployed. It  was  agreed  that  it  should  be  spent  for  a  good 
dinner ! " 

This  reminder  of  plighted  faith  was  uttered  in  so 
lugubrious  a  tone  that  our  hearts  were  touched. 

"  Chavasse  is  right !  —  Chavasse  is  the  boy !  — 
We  '11  have  a  dinner  that  will  astonish  the  natives !  " 

"  Spend  six  hundred  and  forty  francs  on  a  dinner  for 
thirty-one  persons !  Why,  it  would  be  abominable,"  said 
Baudouin,  when  the  excitement  had  partially  subsided. 

"  Bah  !  that  is  only  twenty  francs  a  head  and  forty 
francs  for  the  waiters,"  Chavasse  retorted,  who  had  all  his 
figures  at  his  fingers'  ends.  "That  is  not  excessive,  if 
we  dine  at  a  first-class  restaurant,  —  and  it  would  be 
absurd  to  do  otherwise." 

"We  can  get  just  as  good  a  spread  at  half  the  price 
by  going  to  a  less  pretentious  establishment,"  said 
Dutheil,  "  and  when  it  is  over  there  will  be  a  snug  little 
sum  left  that  we  can  apply  to  some  charitable  purpose." 


252  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

This  sensible  and  praiseworthy  proposal  was  well 
received. 

"That  is  right,"  Baudouin  corroborated.  "For  ten 
francs  a  head  and  by  going  a  little  way  out  of  town,  we 
can  get  as  good  a  dinner  as  any  one  could  wish  for,  retain- 
ing the  whole  restaurant  into  the  bargain,  and  have  just 
as  good  a  time  as  we  would  have  in  the  most  gorgeous 
salon  on  the  boulevard." 

This  was  the  determination  that  was  finally  arrived  at, 
in  spite  of  Chavasse's  mournful  protests.  He  declared 
that  the  arrangement  was  a  deplorable  travesty  of  his 
conception ;  that  we  should  have  a  miserable,  insufficient, 
ill-cooked  dinner,  instead  of  the  ambrosial  banquet  of  his 
dreams ;  as  well  go  to  the  steward  and  obtain  permission 
to  dine  in  the  refectory  of  the  lycee,  and  so  forth. 

But  his  gloomy  prognostics  were  unheeded ;  it  was  as 
much  as  ever  that  two  or  three  chronic  grumblers  like 
Segol,  who  had  made  themselves  obnoxious  by  the  pains 
they  had  taken  throughout  the  year  to  make  their  contri- 
butions to  the  cagnotte  as  small  as  possible,  supported  him 
in  his  reclamations.  By  way  of  consoling  our  titular  Bril- 
lat-Savarin  he  was  assigned  the  duty,  in  concert  with 
Dutheil  and  Payan,  our  two  commissaries,  of  framing  the 
menu  of  the  banquet. 

They  were  also  commissioned  to  make  inquiry  among 
our  masters  as  to  the  worthiest  use  to  make  of  one-half  of 
our  treasure.  I  can't  tell  the  satisfaction  that  we  all  de- 
rived from  the  thought  that  to  our  enjoyment  was  to  be 
joined  the  succour  of  some  afflicted  one.  It  served  as  a 
sort  of  offset  to  the  secret  repugnance  that  some  of  us 
felt  toward  the  idea  of  mere  vulgar  gormandizing. 

From  this  time,  the  banquet  became  so  constant  a  topic 
of  conversation  in  the  playground  that  it  gradually  as- 


CONTAINING   MANY  SURPRISES.  253 

sumed  the  proportions  of  a  veritable  event.  The  commis- 
saries were  close  -  mouthed  regarding  details,  but  had 
evidently  determined  to  surpass  themselves. 

It  leaked  out  presently  that  they  had  made  selection  of 
a  celebrated  restaurant  at  Saint-Germain.  The  proprietor 
had  promised  to  outdo  all  that  his  competitors  could  prom- 
ise. Chavasse's  spirits  rose  perceptibly,  and  he  pledged 
himself  to  astonish  us  with  the  menu.  It  transpired  that 
one  of  the  principal  dishes,  or  pihes  de  resistance,  was  to 
be  roast  Rouen  ducks.  In  the  absence  of  further  infor- 
mation, we  dwelt  so  fondly  on  this  detail,  that  soon  the 
banquet  came  to  be  designated  the  duck  dinner. 

Molecule,  of  course,  did  not  fail  to  take  advantage  of 
this  intelligence,  and  I  was  given  to  understand,  under  a 
pledge  of  inviolable  secrecy,  that  he  was  composing  an 
ode  for  the  occasion,  in  honour  of  the  ducks  of  Rouen. 
A  circumstance  that  distressed  him  greatly,  was  that  he 
was  uncertain  how  to  frame  his  rhymes,  not  knowing 
whether  the  birds  were  to  be  served  with  olives  or  tur- 
nips. I  added  to  his  perplexity  by  reminding  him  that 
there  was  a  third  alternative,  and  that  it  was  not  unusual 
to  serve  ducks  with  green  peas. 

In  the  meantime  the  days  were  gliding  by,  and  on  the 
first  Saturday  in  August,  about  five  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, these  culinary  preoccupations  gave  way  to  others  of 
a  more  classic  nature. 

We  were  momently  awaiting  the  results  of  the  general 
examinations,  which  the  vice-rector  of  the  Academic  de 
Paris,  assisted  by  all  the  principals,  was  in  process  of 
ascertaining  in  one  of  the  chambers  of  the  Sorbonne. 

It  is  there  that,  after  having  been  read  and  classified 
by  committees  of  eminent  experts  —  masters  of  confer- 
ences at  the  Normal  School,  professors  of  the  faculties, 


254  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

or  of  the  College  de  France  —  the  successful  exercises 
are  brought  to  be  identified  by  means  of  the  numbered 
headings  that  have  been  carefully  preserved  in  the  sealed 
boxes  of  which  we  told  in  a  previous  chapter. 

The  ceremony  styled  the  opening  of  the  boxes  takes 
place  behind  closed  doors  ;  nevertheless,  it  never  fails  to 
attract  to  the  courtyard  of  the  Sorbonne  all  the  profes- 
sors interested  in  the  proceedings,  together  with  a  goodly 
number  of  outsiders,  drawn  there  either  by  the  hope  of 
picking  up  some  bit  of  information,  or  simply  by  that  in- 
stinct of  curiosity  which  induces  crowds  to  gather  at  the 
foot  of  a  wall  behind  which  they  have  reason  to  think 
something  is  going  on. 

It  is  seldom  that  these  impatient  ones  are  the  wiser  for 
their  zeal,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  false  reports  abound, 
and  not  a  quarter  of  an  hour  passes  but  a  rumour,  start- 
ing from  no  one  knows  where,  circulates  through  the 
throng  with  telegraphic  speed. 

"  Charlemagne  has  the  first  prize  in  mathematics  !  " 

"  No,  Condorcet  has  it ! " 

"A  scrub-woman  listening  at  the  keyhole  heard  it  was 
Montaigne  !  " 

And  so  it  goes  on  for  the  space  of  two  or  three   hours. 

At  last  the  principals  are  seen  emerging  from  the  door- 
way. Occasionally  one  of  them  will  kindly  stop,  and  give 
an  honour  man  whom  he  perceives  among  the  crowd  the 
happy  tidings  that  concern  him  so  deeply.  For  the  most 
part,  however,  they  are  mute  as  destiny,  reserving  the 
longed-for  information  for  their  own  lycee. 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  feverish  state  in  which  those 
of  us  who  were  considered  to  have  chances  spent  the 
last  moments  that  lay  between  them  and  that  solemn 
hour. 


CONTAINING  MANY  SURPRISES.  2$$ 

As  for  me,  I  had  suddenly  given  way  to  a  sensation  of 
profound  discouragement,  and  no  longer  dared  hope  even 
for  an  accessit.  Viewed  at  a  distance,  the  contest  ap- 
peared to  me  in  the  light  of  a  gigantic  lottery,  where, 
for  one  chance  of  winning,  one  stands  a  million  chances 
to  lose. 

At  last  the  drum  began  to  beat. 

In  a  few  moments  all  the  divisions  were  formed  in  a 
hollow  square  in  the  court  of  reviews.  Surrounding  us, 
outside  the  square,  were  two  or  three  hundred  day  schol- 
ars, who  had  lingered  after  the  dismissal  of  the  afternoon 
class  in  order  to  hear  the  bulletins  read.  The  principal, 
the  proctor,  and  most  of  the  professors,  among  whom  I 
noticed  MM.  Pellerin  and  Aveline,  both  evidently  well 
pleased,  came  and  took  their  places  in  the  centre  of  the 
square. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  M.  Montus,  in  the  midst  of  a  pro- 
found silence,  "the  lycee  has  no  reason  to  be  other- 
wise than  proud  of  the  results  of  the  present  year.  Tztio 
prizes  of  honour,  seven  first  prizes,  eleven  second  prizes, 
and  seventeen  accessits,  —  that  is  the  share  allotted  to 
us." 

Here  the  speaker  unfolded  a  paper  that  he  held  in  his 
hand.  My  heart  beat  as  if  it  would  burst  my  bosom,  and 
I  breathed  with  difficulty. 

"  The  prizes  of  honour,"  he  continued,  "  went,  one  to 
the  class  in  higher  mathematics,  and  the  other  to  the 
class  in  history  - 

The  effect  these  words  produced  on  me  was  that  of  a 
shower-bath  in  wintry  weather.  Farewell,  my  coveted 
prize  in  Latin  composition,  forever  farewell ! 

"  The  prize  of  honour  in  mathematics  was  awarded  to 
M.  Payan,"  the  principal  went  on. 


256  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

The  name  had  no  more  than  passed  his  lips  than  our 
chief's  voice  was  drowned  in  a  salvo  of  applause,  but  a 
general  cry  of  hush  !  restored  order  in  a  trice. 

"  —  and  M.  Besnard  carried  off  the  great  prize  in  his- 
tory." 

I  could  scarcely  believe  my  ears,  while,  in  the  midst  of 
another  round  of  applause,  Baudouin,  more  delighted  than 
I,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible,  took  me  in  his  arms  and 
hugged  me  as  if  his  intention  were  to  strangle  me. 

"  In  Latin  composition,"  the  principal  resumed,  "  we 
were  less  fortunate  ;  M.  Dutheil  took  a  first  accessit ;  but 
it  was  a  pupil  of  Charlemagne,  M.  Mounerol,  who  gained 
the  prize  of  honour  in  rhetoric,  and  a  pupil  of  Saint-Louis, 
M.  Julineau,  that  in  philosophy.  The  second  prize  in 
French  composition  is  ours,  and  it  was  M.  Dutheil  who 
saved  it  for  us ;  a  third  accessit  goes  to  M.  Besnard,  and 
we  have  also  the  first  prize  in  Latin  versification,  which 
was  captured  by  M.  Segol.  In  Greek  translation,  M. 
Besnard  has  a  second  accessit,  and  M.  Dutheil  a  fourth. 
M.  Baudouin  has  a  second  accessit  in  Latin  transla- 
tion — 

And  thus  the  reading  of  the  list  went  on.  When  it 
was  completed,  each  division,  accompanied  by  fresh  ap- 
plause, returned  to  its  court,  and  there  was  dispensation 
from  all  duties  until  supper-time. 

I  was  beside  myself  with  joy,  and  when  M.  Pellerin, 
accompanied  by  M.  Aveline,  came  to  congratulate  me, 
I  begged  him  to  telegraph  the  glorious  news  to  my 
parents. 

"What  strange  luck!  "'I  said  to  Baudouin,  when  our 
comrades  -  had  finally  desisted  from  their  hand-shaking ; 
"  I  have  the  prize  in  history  that  I  should  have  never 
thought  of  counting  on,  and  not  so  much  as  an  accessit  in 


BAUDOUIN    TOOK    ME    IN    HIS    ARMS    AND    HUGGED-  ME. 


CONTAINING  MANY  SURPRISES.  259 

Latin  composition,  your  flattering  prognostics  notwith- 
standing — 

"  Well,  the  accessit  in  Latin  translation,  awarded  to 
me,  a  sculptor ;  don't  you  think  that  is  more  inexplicable 
than  your  history  prize  ?  I  came  to  the  examination  by 
the  merest  chance,  as  a  substitute,  and  I  capture  an 
accessit  !  I  should  hardly  have  been  more  surprised  if  I 
had  taken  the  prize  of  honour  !  " 

"  Ah,  the  prize  of  honour!  I  am  glad  that  it  went  to 
Mounerol  !  Poor  Criquet !  It  will  make  his  grandfather 
very  happy  !  " 

"Happy!"  Baudouin  exclaimed,"  "yes,  if  he  had  any 
idea  of  what  a  prize  of  honour  means.  But  how  could  he 
have,  good  man,  in  his  garret  in  far-away  Chatillon  ?  He 
should  see  his  grandson  in  his  glory,  and  that  is  impossi- 
ble, for  he  lacks  everything,  from  the  price  of  a  railway 
ticket  to  a  decent  coat.  And  to  think  that  to-morrow 
we  are  going  to  spend  more  money  in  bestial  gormandiz- 
ing than  would  suffice  to  give  him  that  pleasure!  " 

"  That  is  a  glorious  idea,"  I  cried.  "  Why  should  n't 
we  propose  to  our  comrades  to  apply  a  portion  of  what  is 
left  in  the  cagnotte  to  such  a  worthy  purpose  ?  It  is  not 
definitely  settled  yet  what  is  to  be  done  with  it." 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  By  dint  of  much  shouting 
and  beckoning  we  bring  the  remainder  of  the  division  to 
us  and  explain  our  idea.  Mounerol,  the  recipient  of  the 
prize  of  honour,  is  a  lad  of  our  province,  educated  as  a 
charity  pupil  at  the  lyce"e  of  Chatillon,  and  at  the  Laura- 
guais  school.  Of  all  his  family  all  that  remains  to  him  is 
an  old  grandfather,  a  poor  man,  sinking  under  the  weight 
of  years  and  infirmities,  who  is  struggling  on  in  direst 
poverty.  Would  it  not  be  a  humane  action  to  remit  at 
once  to  this  good  old  man,  a  sum  sufficient  to  enable  him 


260  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

to  come  and  witness  the  distribution  of  the  prizes,  and  see 
his  grandson  crowned  ?  Let  each  of  us  put  himself  in 
Mounerol's  place  and  reflect  how  disheartening  it  would 
be  in  such  a  case  to  have  not  a  single  relative  in  the  hall 
to  behold  his  triumph.  Could  we  make  a  better  use  of 
our  surplus  fund,  or  better  affirm  the  solidarity  that 
should  prevail  among  all  the  lycees  ? 

We  were  not  allowed  to  finish.  The  entire  division, 
enthusiastically  adopting  Baudouin's  generous  idea,  voted 
the  remittance  to  Pere  Plaisir  of  a  sum  of  three  hundred 
francs,  in  order  that  he  might  be  present  two  days  later 
at  the  ceremonies  in  the  Sorbonne. 

Dutheil  and  I  were  commissioned  to  make  the  neces- 
sary arrangements,  and,  as  may  be  supposed,  we  did  not 
let  the  grass  grow  under  our  feet.  Thanks  to  Anselme's 
friendly  cooperation,  our  letter  for  Chatillon  went  out  by 
that  night's  mail. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

• 

OLYMPIC    GAMES    REVIVED.  THE    DUCK    DINNER. 

SIX  o'clock  was  the  hour  appointed  for  our  assemblage 
at  the  Pavilion,  but  our  impatience  had  so  run  ahead 
of  the  time  that  it  was  barely  four  when  Baudouin  and  I 
reached  Saint-Germain. 

As  it  was,  we  regretted  that  we  had  not  made  an  even 
earlier  start,  for,  as  we  emerged  from  the  railway  station, 
we  saw  the  tail-end  of  a  long  procession  disappearing  up 
an  adjacent  street.  At  the  same  time  the  sound  of  mili- 
tary music  in  the  distance  reached  our  ears. 

A  good-natured  citizen  obligingly  informed  us  that  a 
great  review  of  firemen  had  just  taken  place. 

"  And  a  fine  display  it  was,"  he  added,  with  unaffected 
enthusiasm.  "  There  were  three  thousand  men  in  line ! 
Just  think  once,  the  firemen  of  fifteen  or  twenty  depart- 
ments, all  drawn  up  on  the  terrace !  It  was  for  the  great 
decennial  prize,  you  know." 

Regretting  to  have  missed  the  spectacle,  but  neverthe- 
less determined  not  to  give  way  to  melancholy,  we  betook 
ourselves  to  the  great  shaded  alleys  which  make  the  edge 
of  the  forest  a  veritable  park. 

The  crowd  was  still  considerable,  especially  in  the 
quarter  where  a  hundred  or  so  open-air  booths  had  been 
hastily  run  up  for  the  festive  occasion.  There  were  two 
long  rows  of  little  shops,  Italian  cafes,  merry-go-rounds, 


262  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

theatres  of  marionettes,  dioramas,  tents  of  jugglers  and 
mountebanks,  who  announced  their  attractions  in  squeaking 
voices  to  the  accompaniment  of  discordant  music. 

Up  and  down  the  space  between  these  traps  to  catch 
the  pennies  of  the  multitude  streamed  a  ceaseless  tide  of 
Parisians  in  their  Sunday  best,  and  gawky  countryfolks, 
bands  of  children,  and  soldiers  off  duty.  The  whole  scene 
was  bathed  in  the  brilliant  sunshine  of  August,  clouds  of 
Stirling  dust,  and  that  damp,  low-hanging  steam  that  rises 
from  a  crowd  on  a  hot  summer's  day. 

We  had  not  been  in  this  paradise  of  popular  delight  five 
minutes  when  we  caught  sight  of  Verschuren  and  Thome- 
reau.  Like  us,  they  were  killing  time  while  awaiting  the 
hour  of  dinner. 

"  Did  you  miss  the  review  ?  "  cried  Verschuren,  as  soon 
as  he  saw  us.  "  Guess  who  commanded  the  handsomest 
company  !  It 's  no  use,  though  ;  you  may  as  well  give  it 
up.  I  '11  tell  you  :  Captain  Biradent,  of  Chatillon  !  And 
my  stars,  how  the  people  applauded  when  they  saw  his 
helmet  of  honour !  Tell  Thomereau  the  story,  Besnard  ; 
he  will  think  I  am  romancing  if  I  state  that  that  helmet 
was  the  reward  for  saving  your  humble  servant's  life." 

At  Verschuren' s  request,  I  explained  to  Thomereau  how 
Captain  Biradent  had,  in  truth,  saved  all  the  inmates  of  our 
dormitory  from  a  terrible  fire  that  broke  out  in  it. 

"  But  it  should  be  said  that  Verschuren  had  not  yet 
1  shown  any  sign  of  the  martial  instincts  that  distinguish 
him  to-day,  and  had  no.  inclination  to  face  fire,"  Baudouin 
added,  with  a  laugh. 

Verschuren  did  not  hesitate  to  admit  that  he  had  had  a 
good  scare  that  night,  and  the  four  of  us  resumed  our  walk. 
The  influence  of  the  jollity  that  we  saw  on  every  side, 
joined  to  our  own  private  resolve  not  to  be  victims  of  dull 


OLYMPIC   GAMES  REVIVED.  263 

care,  was  already  producing  an  appreciable  effect  on  us. 
We  were  affected  by  a  sort  of  contagious  exaltation  of  the 
spirits.  We  went  hither  and  yon,  this  way  and  that, 
yielding  to  an  almost  irresistible  desire  for  movement  and 
noise.  We  stopped  in  one  place  to  pull  the  string  of  a 
Dutch  top,  in  another  to  have  a  ride  on  the  wooden 
horses,  as  if  we  had  been  ten-year-old  boys.  We  laughed 
boisterously  for  no  cause,  and  were  possessed  by  an  increas- 
ing desire  to  yell  and  "  raise  Cain  "  generally. 

One  cannot  be  too  careful  to  guard  against  such  im- 
pulses when  he  feels  them  germinating  in  him.  We  gave 
them  no  heed,  however,  and  it  was  with  the  most  complete 
insouciance  that  we  stopped  before  the  entrance  of  a  sort 
of  itinerant  circus,  housed  in  a  miserable  old  tent  of  striped 
cotton  canvas  supported  from  space  to  space  by  great 
stakes  planted  in  the  ground. 

The  entrance  was  surmounted  by  a  scaffold,  behind 
which  depended  a  great  canvas  screen  on  which  were 
depicted  figures  of  wrestlers  in  classic  costume.  An  ex- 
hibition had  apparently  ended  not  long  previously,  for 
grouped  about  the  enclosure  some  spectators,  not  very 
numerous,  however,  were  still  discussing  the  merits  of  the 
show. 

"  I  tell  you  that  he  did  n't  touch  both  shoulders." 

"  Good  !  I  say  he  did,  for  I  saw  the  sawdust  on  his 
shoulder-blades." 

"  Oh,  for  my  part,  don't  you  see,  I  take  no  stock  in 
those  amateurs ;  they  are  nothing  but  confederates  who 
play  into  one  another's  hand." 

Our  curiosity  was  whetted  by  these  conversational  frag- 
ments, and  we  advanced  to  a  position  where  we  could  read 
a  great  poster  that  was  suspended  from  one  of  the  door- 
posts : 


264  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

ARENA    OF    SAINT-CLOUD. 
GRECO  -  ROMAN  WRESTLING. 

Revival  of  the  Pyrrhic,  Athletic,  and  Gymnastic 
Sports  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans, 
under  the  Direction  of  M.  Monin-Javot, 
ex-champion  of  South  America. 
Open  from  12  M.  until  10  at  Night. 
ADMISSION,  10  CENTIMES. 

We  arrived  in  the  nick  of  time.  The  proprietor  of  the 
show  was  reciting  in  hoarse  tones  his  monotonous  and  oft- 
repeated  chant : 

"  Yes,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I,  Monin-Javot,  here  present 
and  now  addressing  you,  offer  a  reward  of  five  hundred 
thousand  francs  to  any  man  who  shall  down  me  !  (Move- 
ment of  stupefaction  in  the  audience?)  F  —  i  —  v  —  e  hun- 
dred thousand  frrrancs  !  in  bills  of  the  Bank  of  France,  - 
in  gold,  —  or  in  drafts  at  sight  on  M.  le  Baron  de 
Rothschild !  And  happy  shall  I  be,  I  assure  you,  to  pay 
that  sacred  debt,  for  I  shall  have  learned  that  the  blood  of 
old  Gaul  has  not  deteriorated.  (M.  Monin-Javot  wipes 
away  a  tear,  and  smites  the  painted curtain  be  hind  him  with 
his  sword  of  lath.) 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  who  is  there  among  you  that  is 
not  tempted  to  hazard  the  attempt  ?  You  say  to  your- 
selves, Five  hundred  thousand  francs  are  a  very  pretty 
sum ;  I  am  going  to  try  to  earn  them  ;  if  I  meet  with  a  fall 
it  will  be  no  disgrace,  coming  from  Monin-Javot ;  if  I  am 
victorious  my  fortune  is  made.  You  wish  to  make  the 
attempt,  then,  and  the  ambition  does  honour  to  your 
intelligence  even  more  than  to  your  courage.  It  is  well, 
gentlemen  ;  enter,  inscribe  your  names  on  the  lists  ;  the 
books  are  always  open !  But  permit  me  to  inform  you 


OLYMPIC   GAMES  REVIVED.  26$ 

that,  owing  to  the  immense  number  of  candidates,  you 
will  be  expected  first  to  pass  a  preliminary  test.  (Move- 
ment of  attention  in  the  audience?) 

"  I  have  about  me,  as  you  are  aware,  a  phalanx  of 
invincible  wrestlers  whose  fame  cannot  have  failed  to 
reach  your  ears.  Not  one  of  these  athletes  —  and  I  say 
it  without  fear  of  wounding  their  generous  self-esteem  — 
has  ever  succeeded  in  vanquishing  me.  Not  one  of  them 
approaches  my  force  and  skill.  It  will  be  admitted,  there- 
fore, that  any  contestant  who  is  thrown  by  one  of  them  is 
unworthy  to  measure  his  prowess  against  mine. 

"  What  remains  for  you  to  do,  then,  you  who  aspire  to 
win  the  prize  of  five  hundred  thousand  francs  ?  Simply 
to  present  yourselves  in  the  arena  and  down  successively 
all  my  pupils  !  When  by  doing  that  you  shall  have  proved 
that  I  can  contend  with  you  without  wasting  my  own  and 
the  public's  time,  the  hour  for  the  decisive  contest  will 
have  struck,  and  you  will  always  find  me  ready !  (Loud 
applause?] 

"  But  in  the  meantime,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  do  not 
wish  that  you  should  think  I  am  imposing  on  you  a  fruit- 
less task.  No  indeed !  Never  shall  it  be  said  that  an 
amateur  vanquished  one  of  our  athletes  without  deriving 
a  substantial  advantage  from  his  victory.  For  instance, 
it  is  now  time  for  Pollux,  known  as  the  Florentine  Bronze, 
and  the  Eel  of  the  Charente-Inferieure,  to  appear  in  the 
lists.  Well !  whoever  shall  apply  for  leave  to  pit  himself 
against  either  of  those  champions  shall  be  accorded  the 
honour  !  And  whoever  succeeds  in  throwing  his  adversary 
shall  be  entitled  to  receive  the  sum  of  twenty-five  francs, 
in  current  coin  of  the  realm,  with  discount  or  deduction  of 
any  kind  !  (Emphasizes  his  speech  by  repeated  blows  on 
the  curtain  with  his  sword  of  lath?) 


266  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"And  to  participate  in  these  inestimable  advantages 
and  witness  these  heroic  contests,  what,  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, is  the  admission  fee  that  we  ask  from  your  gener- 
osity ?  Almost  nothing,  scarcely  enough  to  cover  our 
expense  for  rent,  an  obolus,  a  wretched  trifle !  It  is  not 
ten  francs,  as  at  Opera ;  it  is  not  six  francs,  as  at  the 
Comedie  Franchise ;  it  is  not  one  franc  ;  it  is  not  even 
ten  sous  !  —  but  only  the  miserable  pittance  of  ten  cen- 
times, two  sous !  Two  sous  to  see  the  Florentine  Bronze 
in  conflict  with  the  Eel  of  the  Charente-Inferieure !  Two 
sous  to  see  the  amateurs  enter  the  lists  !  Two  sous  to 
witness  our  splendid  revival  of  the  old  Grecian  and  Roman 
games  !  Two  sous  to  win  five  and  twenty  francs  !  Two 
sous  to  earn  five  hundred  thousand  francs  !  Think  of  it ! 
Walk  in,  ladies  and  gentlemen  !  Band,  strike  up  !  " 

In  obedience  to  the  command,  a  drum  and  trombone, 
stationed  on  the  scaffold,  broke  out  in  a  horrible  andante. 
At  the  same  time  the  two  flaps  of  coarse  canvas  that 
closed  the  entrance  of  the  tent  were  drawn  aside,  and 
about  thirty  men  and  boys,  seduced  by  M.  Monin-Javot's 
flowery  eloquence,  pushed  their  way  in.  As  we  still  had 
an  hour  and  more  on  our  hands  before  the  time  set  for 
the  dinner,  we  followed  their  example. 

The  arena  was  certainly  not  pretentious  :  it  consisted 
of  a  circular  space  in  the  tent,  railed  off  by  a  primitive 
arrangement  of  stakes  and  ropes.  This  enclosure  was 
strewn  with  a  thick  layer  of  sawdust.  Outside  the  ropes 
was  a  sort  of  gangway  reserved  for  the  spectators,  who 
had  at  their  backs  the  canvas  walls  of  the  structure. 

After  the  band  had  played  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the 
spectators,  notwithstanding  M.  Monin-Javot's  reiterated 
and  stirring  appeals,  did  not  number  more  than  forty, 
including  our  party. 


OLYMPIC   GAMES  REVIVED.  26? 

The  drum  and  trombone  at  last  desisted  from  their 
cacophony,  and  after  a  wait  of  about  ten  minutes  the  two 
contestants,  equipped  in  the  traditional  costume  of  pink 
fleshings  and  spangled  velvet  trunks,  presented  themselves 
in  the  arena.  It  was  they,  it  was  the  Eel  of  the  Charente- 
Inferieure  and  the  Florentine  Bronze  ! 

It  would  seem  that  they  had  other  names  as  well,  for 
they  had  no  more  than  shown  their  faces  than  a  fat  man, 
in  a  buff  nankin  waistcoat,  who  was  standing  near  us, 
exclaimed  : 

"  Ah,  upon  my  word,  that  is  giving  it  to  us  a  little  too 
strong  !  " 

"  He  means  the  coffee,  I  suppose,"  observed  Thomereau. 

"  What 's  that  you  say,  sir  ?  " 

"  Never  mind." 

"Well,  I  say  again,  it  is  cutting  it  too  thick.  Those 
are  the  very  same  men  who  were  introduced  to  us  a  little 
while  ago  as  Aubry  the  Lion  and  Jacques  the  invincible 
wrestler  !  I  recognize  them  perfectly  ;  the  little  chap  has 
not  even  changed  his  costume.  As  for  the  other,  he  has 
taken  the  pains  to  blacken  his  face  and  hands  with  soot, 
and  that 's  all." 

At  this  juncture  M.  Monin-Javot  announced  that  the 
performance  was  about  to  begin.  He  had  at  last  regret- 
fully decided  to  close  the  flaps  that  served  as  a  doorway, 
and  was  now  patrolling  the  outer  circumference  of  the 
ring,  aiming  a  blow,  whenever  he  had  a  chance,  at  the 
heads  of  the  small  boys  who  had  crept  under  the  canvas 
in  the  hope  of  seeing  without  paying. 

"  Pollux  and  the  Eel  will  now  contend  together,"  he 
proclaimed,  "and  if,  after  the  courteous  contest,  one  of 
the  spectators  should  feel  disposed  to  try  conclusions 
with  the  victor,  the  ring  will  be  open  to  him." 


268  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

The  two  athletes  began  by  exchanging  the  customary 
salutes  and  hand-shakes.  An  engaging  smile  that  never 
left  their  lips  was  meant  to  show  the  loyalty  and  good 
faith  with  which  they  entered  on  the  conflict.  They 
stooped  simultaneously,  gathered  a  handful  of  dust  with 
which  they  rubbed  the  palms  of  their  hands,  and  faced 
each  other  in  the  most  sculpturesque  attitude  they  could 
think  of.  At  last  they  clinched,  seizing  each  other 
around  the  body,  and  began  to  wrestle. 

It  seemed  to  us,  whether  we  were  right  or  not,  that 
they  were  favouring  each  other,  and  infused  only  a  very 
moderate  degree  of  spirit  into  their  "work."  Baudouin, 
who  was  deeply  interested  in  the  scene,  was  indignant  at 
such  faint-heartedness. 

"  More  steam !  "  he  said  in  an  undertone,  when  the 
adversaries  approached  us  in  the  course  of  their  evolutions. 
"  Get  down  to  work,  now  !  One  would  suppose  you  were 
afraid  of  damaging  your  beauty." 

The  Eel  and  the  Florentine  Bronze  kept  on  seizing  each 
other  by  the  arms,  the  neck,  the  waist,  swaying,  strug- 
gling, stooping,  rising,  going  through  all  the  motions  of 
a  genuine  conflict,  but  without  serious  results.  Two  or 
three  times  they  rolled  over  and  over  together  on  the 
ground,  but  nothing  came  of  it.  They  rose  quickly  and 
resumed  their  hold. 

Finally,  after  five  or  six  bouts,  the  Eel  was  suddenly 
lifted  bodily  from  off  the  ground  by  his  opponent,  who  laid 
him  flat  on  his  back  and  by  a  supreme  effort  pressed  both 
his  shoulders  down  into  the  sawdust.'*1"^- 

Pollux  was  the  victor.  He  gallantly  tendered  his  hand 
to  the  vanquished,  and  bowed  to  the  spectators. 

There  was  applause  from  some  quarters.  But  Baudouin 
was  not  satisfied. 


OLYMPIC   GAMES  REVIVED,  269 

"  It  is  nothing  but  a  farce  !  "  he  injudiciously  exclaimed, 
in  quite  a  loud  voice.  "  The  Eel  could  have  saved  him- 
self if  he  had  tried.  The  fellows  are  accomplices." 

M.  Monin-Javot,  who  chanced  just  then  to  be  standing 
a  few  steps  from  us,  divined  rather  than  heard  these 
words.  At  any  rate  he  saw  his  opportunity. 

"  Perhaps  mossie'u  would  like  to  try  his  strength  against 
Pollux  ? ''  he  said,  approaching  us,  with  a  tantalizing  air. 
"  He  would  then  be  assured  that  the  contest  is  conducted 
honestly,  and  that  we  have  nothing  to  fear  from  any 
rivals." 

Baudouin's  face  became  very  red,  but  he  spoke  no 
word.  It  was  clear  that  he  was  not  particularly  averse  to 
accepting  the  challenge,  but  repugnance  to  making  a  spec- 
tacle of  himself  restrained  him. 

M.  Monin-Javot  surveyed  him  with  an  ironic  eye. 

"  Mossieu  is  probably  afraid  of  getting  a  fall  ?  "  he 
continued.  "  That  is  precisely  what  would  happen  in  all 
likelihood,  and  I  see  by  the  look  of  Pollux's  eye  that  he 
would  not  hesitate  to  tackle  two  or  three  adversaries  like 
mvssteu." 

Baudouin's  face  was  getting  redder  and  redder.  As  for 
us,  we  were  beginning  to  think  that  the  honour  of  the 
lycee  was  in  a  ticklish  position.  Students  in  rhetoric  are 
not  old  men,  you  know. 

"  Why  should  n't  you  try  it  ?  "  I  said  to  Baudouin  ;  "  you 
are  stronger  than  that  Aztec  !  " 

I  had  committed  an  imprudence.  Baudouin  looked  at 
me  with  the  air  of  one  who  only  wants  a  backer  to  engage 
in  any  folly. 

Monin-Javot  looked  at  me  also.     He  had  overheard. 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,  young  man,"  said  the 
tempter. 


2/0  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  Shall  I  have  to  put  on  tights  ?  "  Baudouin  suddenly 
asked. 

"  No,  mossieu.  You  may  come  on  in  your  trousers,  and 
you  may  even  keep  on  your  socks  if  you  feel  inclined." 

This  inducement  appeared  to  settle  the  question  with 
Baudouin.  With  a  rapid  movement  he  threw  aside  his 
kepi,  removed  his  tunic,  stripped  off  his  shirt,  kicked  off 
his  shoes,  and  jumped  into  the  ring,  naked  to  the  belt. 

He  was  greeted  with  a  round  of  applause. 

"  Good  !  another  confederate  !  "  said  our  neighbour,  the 
man  in  the  nankin  waistcoat. 

"A  confederate !  "  I  hotly  rejoined.  "  Do  you  mean  to 
say  that  Baudouin  is  a  confederate !  " 

The  man's  observation  had  sufficed  to  show  me  the 
injudiciousness  of  Baudouin's  action,  and  I  began  to  repent 
of  the  encouragement  that  I  had  afforded  him.  A  glance 
at  our  champion  would  have  quickly  obliterated  this  im- 
pression, however.  He  made  a  handsome  picture,  did  our 
champion,  with  his  small  Roman  head  poised  on  a  columnar 
neck,  his  nostrils  dilated  and  eyes  flashing  with  the  joy  of 
conflict,  his  well-developed  chest  and  sinewy  arms  !  No 
one  would  have  supposed  he  was  a  boy  scarce  eighteen 
years  old  ;  such  were  the  elegant  proportions  of  his  person 
that  every  one  took  him  for  a  man  of  twenty-two  or  twenty- 
three. 

Pollux's  looks  seemed  to  say,  — 

«  What  is  this  ? 

"  '  Ce  bloc  enfarint  ne  me  dit  rien  qui  vat  lie  / '  " 

The  usual  preliminary  salaams  were  exchanged.  Bau- 
douin, a  past  master  in  all  pertaining  to  gymnastics,  per- 
formed them  as  if  he  had  been  practising  them  all  his  life. 
At  last  they  took  their  positions. 


OLYMPIC   GAMES  REVIVED.  .  2/1 

The  two  combatants  seized  each  other  round  the  body. 
I  could  not  help  shuddering  as  I  saw  the  Florentine 
Bronze's  long  black  arms  twine  themselves  like  serpents 
about  Baudouin's  waist.  But  he  showed  no  sign  of  flinch- 
ing. He  made  no  demonstration,  but  balanced  himself 
lightly  for  a  moment  as  if  to  give  his  adversary  an  oppor- 
tunity to  perfect  his  hold,  then  quickly  bending  to  the 
left  and  raising  his  arms,  he  twisted  the  negro's  head 
round  under  his  right  armpit  and  held  it  there  as  in  a  vice. 
Pollux  turned  and  writhed  in  a  desperate  effort  to  release 
himself.  All  was  in  vain.  Baudouin  turned  as  he  turned, 
showing  successfully  to  the  circle  of  spectators  the  black 
face  grinning  and  grimacing  behind  his  back. 

The  black  then  adopted  the  expedient  of  loosing  his 
hold  and  falling.  Baudouin,  without  relaxing  his  grasp, 
accompanied  him  to  the  arena. 

They  rolled  over  and  over  on  the  ground,  neither  able  to 
secure  the  mastery,  and  after  a  dozen  ineffectual  attempts 
rose  to  their  feet.  Every  one  applauded.  There  was  a 
pause  lasting  from  two  to  three  minutes. 

It  was  again  Pollux  who  took  the  initiative  in  the  second 
round.  He  attempted  to  take  Baudouin  by  the  shoulders 
and  force  him  down  by  main  strength,  then  to  grasp  him 
beneath  the  arms  and  swing  him  on  his  hip,  then  by  a 
feint  to  seize  him  by  the  waist  and  send  him  to  the  earth 
head  foremost.  Each  time  his  opponent  clung  to  him  so 
tightly  that  the  effort  was  a  failure. 

There  was  another  pause,  punctuated  by  applause. 
Pollux  was  breathing  hard,  and  beginning  to  show  ill 
temper.  He  seemed  fairly  to  grind  his  teeth  as  he 
advanced  on  Baudouin  for  the  third  round. 

The  manoeuvre  he  attempted  this  time  was  a  very 
hazardous  one  :  he  rushed  on  his  adversary  head  down, 


2/2  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

with  the  object  of  seizing  him  by  the  legs  and  landing 
him  on  his  back,  heels  in  air,  before  he  was  aware  of  what 
was  going  on. 

But  Baudouin,  swift  as  thought,  was  ready  with  the 
riposte.  He  coiled  his  arms  around  the  darky's  neck, 
tripped  him,  raised  him  off  the  ground,  and,  whirling  him 
in  air  as  if  he  had  been  a  sack  of  meal,  landed  him  plump 
on  his  two  shoulders. 

Pollux  was  "  downed ; "  the  fact  was  incontestible. 

A  storm  of  acclamations  greeted  our  friend's  victory, 
while  he  was  returning  to  us -with  a  rather  sheepish  face 
and  Pollux  was  picking  himself  up  in  confusion. 

Baudouin's  skin  was  stained  here  and  there  with  spots  of 
black,  as  if  the  sham  negro's  pigment  had  rubbed  off  on  him. 

"  I  am  a  big  fool !  "  he  said,  as  he  reached  us  and  began 
to  throw  on  his  clothes. 

We  were  preparing  to  leave,  together  with  the  other 
spectators,  for  the  show  seemed  to  be  over,  when,  suddenly, 
the  voice  of  the  man  in  the  nankin  waistcoat  made  itself 
heard  again. 

"  Well,  that  prize  of  twenty-five  francs  !  have  we  heard 
the  last  of  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  twenty-five  francs  !  where  are  the  twenty-five 
francs  promised  to  the  victor  ?"  echoed,  in  muffled  tones 
at  first  and  then  with  increasing  vigour,  some  of  those 
around  him. 

In  an  instant  a  storm  was  raging.  The  assemblage 
yelled  in  chorus,  to  the  tune  of  les  Lampions,  "The 
twenty-five  francs  !  The  twenty-five  francs  !  " 

M.  Monin-Javot  came  forward,  pale,  but  suave  as  ever, 
a  smile  upon  his  lips. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  with  a  fine  air  of  misprized  loy- 
alty, "  permit  me  to  inform  the  honest  individuals,  whose 


POLLUX    WAS    'DOWNED;'    THE    FACT    WAS    INCONTESTABLE. 


UNIVERSITY 


OLYMPIC   GAMES  REVIVED.  2/5 

voices  I  hear  raised  in  remonstrance,  that  they  are  inter- 
fering in  a  matter  that  should  be  confined  to  mossieu 
(designating  Baudouin)  and  me.  I  am  ready  to  pay  mos- 
sieu the  reward  to  which  he  is  entitled,  but  I  am  too 
•conscious  of  what  I  owe  to  myself,  and  of  what  I  owe  -to 
the  distinguished  amateur  who  has  just  afforded  one  of 
our  troupe  the  honour  of  trying  his  strength  with  him,  to 
discuss  in  public  a  question  of  pecuniary  interest.  No, 
gentlemen ;  that  is  not  my  way  of  doing  business." 

"The  twenty-five  francs!"  bawled  one  of  the  specta- 
tors, unmoved  by  these  considerations  of  refined  courtesy. 
41  Pay  the  twenty-five  francs  you  promised  !  " 

"  Gentlemen,"  M.  Monin-Javot  replied,  with  inexhaust- 
ible patience,  "  all  the  money  at  my  disposal  at  the  present 
moment  is  in  pieces  of  five  and  ten  centimes.  You  would 
not  wish  me  to  force  mossieu  to  receive  payment  in  cop- 
pers ?  Vigorous  as  he  is,  he  would  scarcely  be  able  to 
carry  away  such  a  burden." 

This  argument  appeared  to  produce  a  certain  effect. 

"  He  is  right,"  said  some  of  the  more  moderate  ones. 

But  he  of  the  nankin  waistcoat  was  merciless. 

"  It  is  a  matter  that  can  be  easily  arranged,"  he  said. 
•"  I  will  undertake  to  furnish  gold,  right  here  and  now,  for 
all  those  coppers.  I  am  in  need  of  small  change,  anyway, 
in  my  butcher  business." 

The  audience  returned  to  its  original  impression. 

"  That  settles  the  matter,  then.  Let  the  twenty-five 
francs  be  paid  !  " 

Here  Baudouin  felt  it  his  duty  to  interfere. 

"Faith,"  he  said,  "since  you  force  me  to  it,  I  must 
confess  that  it  was  not  the  desire  of  gaining  the  money 
that  induced  me  to  enter  the  ring,  and  I  am  perfectly 
willing  to  abandon  all  claim  to  it." 


2/6  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"Ah,  ha!  "  sneered  the  man  of  the  waistcoat,  "didn't 
I  tell  you  the  business  was  a  fraud  ?  " 

M.  Monin-Javot,  who  was  mopping  his  forehead  with  a 
dirty  handkerchief,  gave  a  great  bound  at  this  application 
of  the  spur. 

"  Bring  hither  the  treasure  chest  !  "  he  said,  with  a 
majestic  air. 

The  Eel  and  the  Florentine  Bronze,  with  slow  and 
reluctant  steps,  brought  to  the  centre  of  the  ring  a 
large  black  box,  having  a  small  slot  in  its  lid.  The  poor 
devils'  looks  of  distress  would  have  softened  the  hardest 
heart,  and  the  least  imaginative  could  have  divined  that 
they  were  solemnizing  the  obsequies  of  their  hopes  of 
dinner. 

In  the  meantime,  M.  Monin-Javot  had  opened  the  box 
and  was  extracting  in  great  handfuls  the  day's  receipts. 
The  sous,  when  arranged  in  order  on  the  lid  and  counted, 
were  found  to  reach  the  sum  of  twenty-five  francs.  The 
overplus  did  not  exceed  sixty  centimes,  however. 

"  No,  I  really  cannot  take  that  money  ! "  said  Baudouin, 
stoutly,  but,  nevertheless,  intimidated  by  the  severe  eye 
of  the  man  of  the  waistcoat. 

At  this  moment,  there  was  a  sudden  commotion  in  the 
group  surrounding  us,  which  parted  and  made  way  for  an 
officer  resplendent  in  full  uniform,  sword  at  side,  helmet 
on  head,  epaulettes  of  bullion  on  the  shoulders. 

"Captain  Biradent !  "  I  shouted,  joyfully. 

"  Captain  Biradent !  "  Baudouin  and  Verschuren  repeated 
after  me. 

"  Yes,  Captain  Biradent ;  and  just  in  time  to  prevent 
you  from  completing  a  foolish  action ! "  he  growled, 
between  his  teeth,  with  that  rough  frankness  and  southern 
accent  which  were  so  familiar  to  us. 


OLYMPIC   GAMES  REVIVED.  2// 

"Who  is  there  here  that  dares  to  speak  of  fraud  in 
connection  with  a  young  man  who  wears  the  uniform  ?  " 
he  roared.  "  The  first  man  who  ventures  to  repeat  that 
insinuation  shall  answer  for  it  to  me  !  " 

No  one  breathed  a  word.  The  man  of  the  waistcoat 
made  an  abortive  attempt  to  hide  behind  two  thin  specta- 
tors. 

"  I  thank  you,  monsieur,  but  keep  your  money."  Bau- 
douin  rapidly  said,  happy  to  escape  from  the  menaced 
payment. 

"That  is  well,"  said  the  captain.  "And  now  —  by  the 
right  flank— 'arch  !" 

Mechanically  obeying  the  command  once  so  familiar  in 
our  ears,  we  hurried  from  the  tent. 

The  captain  did  not  appear  to  be  over  well  pleased  with 
us. 

"  How  is  this,"  he  said,  when  we  had  left  the  booth  a 
little  way  behind  us.  "  How  comes  it  that  I  find  young 
gentlemen  of  birth  and  education,  who  have  their  degrees, 
wrestling  in  public  with  vulgar  harlequins  ?  Gentlemen, 
I  am  ashamed  of  you  !  " 

"  Come,  come,  captain,"  Baudouin  replied,  with  his 
frank  and  merry  laugh,  "  you  must  not  be  too  hard  on 
us.  It  is  partly  your  fault,  confound  it !  If  you  had  not 
given  us  such  good  muscles  in  the  gymnasium  at  Chatil- 
lon,  we  should  never  have  thought  of  exercising  them 
here." 

The  implied  compliment  went  direct  to  the  heart  of  the 
worthy  man. 

"There  is  some  truth  in  that,  there  is  some  truth  in 
that,"  he  said,  with  a  smile.  "  But  try  next  time  to  make 
a  better  selection  of  your  adversary.  And  what  are  you 
doing  at  Saint-Germain,  if  I  am  not  too  inquisitive  ? " 


2/8  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"We  are  here  for  a  class  dinner,  which,  by  the  way, 
will  deprive  us  of  the  pleasure  of  being  with  you  as  long 
as  we  should  like,  for  I  hear  the  clock  striking  six." 

We  all  directed  our  steps  toward  the  Pavilion.  On  the 
way  the  captain  informed  me  that  he  was  in  Paris  for  a 
week's  stay ;  I  availed  myself  of  the  opportunity  to  ask 
him  to  come  and  dine  with  my  mother  on  the  following 
day,  which  he  promised  he  would  do.  My  father,  in  cele- 
bration of  my  honours,  had  already  invited  M.  Pellerin, 
M.  Aveline,  and  M.  Desbans. 

"  Come  along,  there ;  we  are  waiting  for  you  !  "  was 
the  salutation  we  received  from  a  score  of  our  comrades 
whose  joyous  faces  filled  the  windows  of  the  restaurant. 
We  gave  the  captain's  hand  a  parting  clasp.  He,  too,  had 
a  dinner  of  his  corps  to  attend  that  evening,  and  could  not 
have  kept  us  company. 

We  darted  up  the  staircase. 

The  scene  of  the  festivities  was  a  large  room  on  the 
first  floor,  which  we  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  without 
other  guide  than  the  uproar  that  already  prevailed  there. 
Boisterous  objurgations  greeted  our  entrance. 

"  Here  come  the  laggards  !  Why  did  n't  you  keep  us 
waiting  a  little  longer  ?  Come,  let  's  sit  down  !  " 

There  was  a  momentary  confusion,  a  crash  of  chairs, 
and  a  clatter  of  plates.  Then  we  found  ourselves  seated 
in  compact  order,  elbows  touching,  the  entire  thirty-one 
of  us,  around  a  long,  wide  table.  I  was  seated  between 
Baudouin  and  Verschuren,  and  opposite  me  was  the 
shining  face  of  Chavasse,  of  whom  I  had  occasional 
glimpses  through  the  mountains  of  fruit  and  flowers,  the 
pyramids  of  nougat,  and  the  various  other  structures  of 
culinary  architecture  with  which  the  table  was  loaded. 
Two  or  three  glasses  were  arrayed  beside  each  plate,  a 


OLYMPIC   GAMES  REVIVED.  2/9 

menu  on  heavy  glazed  paper  was  laid  over  the  knife  and 
fork,  and  the  resolute  faces  that  surrounded  the  handsome 
display  testified  sufficiently  to  the  ardour  with  which  we 
were  prepared  to  enter  on  our  labours. 

The  dinner  was  good,  notwithstanding  the  fearful  and 
wonderful  names  with  which  the  chef,  aided  and  abetted 
by  our  committee  men,  had  considered  it  necessary  to 
disguise  his  dishes. 

The  repast  was  much  more  quiet  than  might  have  been 
expected  from  the  earlier  portion  of  our  afternoon.  In 
the  first  place,  we  were  all  provided  with  an  appetite 
which  checked  any  disposition  to  engage  in  wordy  warfare 
when  there  was  so  much  better  employment  for  our 
masticatory  apparatus.  Next,  we  had  contracted  at  the 
lycee  the  excellent  habit  of  behaving  like  gentlemen. at 
table.  Finally,  finding  ourselves  arrayed  around  the  board 
at  a  sort  of  public  banquet,  and  subjected  to  the  scrutiny 
of  the  numerous  attendants,  we  felt  that  the  good  name 
of  our  college  was  in  our  charge  and  that  it  behooved  us 
not  to  disgrace  our  uniform. 

It  was  as  much  as  ever  if  Thomereau  ventured  on  two 
or  three  pleasantries  of  a  doubtful  character,  which  were 
at  once  nipped  in  the  bud  by  the  freezing  coldness  with 
which  they  were  received,  or  if  the  conversation  rose 
above  its  normal  diapason  when  the  famous  ducks  of 
Rouen  made  their  appearance  on  a  bed  of  academic 
laurels,  —  a  circumstance  that  had  failed  to  enter  into 
Molecule's  calculations.  At  dessert,  however,  when  the 
golden  champagne  was  mantling  in  the  glasses,  he  was 
allowed  to  read  his  little  poem,  which  we  applauded  in 
recognition  of  his  good  intention. 

The  evening  would  have  been  uneventful  if  the  unfortu- 
nate Chavasse,  after  partaking  twice  of  every  dish,  and 


280  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

literally  stuffing  himself  with  indigestible  pastry,  had  not 
crowned  his  exploits  by  insisting  on  smoking  the  biggest 
and  blackest  cigar  that  the  establishment  could  produce. 

This  imprudence  resulted  in  consequences  on  which  the 
reader  will  pardon  me  if  I  draw  the  curtain,  and  which 
obliged  our  unhappy  comrade,  after  a  silent  but  decisive 
conflict,  to  beat  a  precipitate  retreat  to  the  cool,  calm 
regions  of  the  terrace. 

By  ten  o'clock  all  was  over,  and  we  took  the  train  to 
return  to  Paris, 


CHAPTER    XXI. 
AUNT  AUBERT'S   IRE. 

IT  was  past  eleven  o'clock  when  Baudouin  and  I  reached 
Billancourt,  and  I  was  surprised  to  see  a  light  still 
shining  from  the  windows  of  the  drawing-room.  Had 
mamma  been  sitting  up  for  us  ?  The  thought  distressed 
me.  She  to  whom  rest  and  tranquillity  were  such  absolute 
necessities. 

She  was  not  the  only  one  who  received  us  with  a  little 
cry  of  joy  on  recognizing  our  footsteps  on  the  stoop  : 
Aunt  Aubert,  my  father,  and  grandpa,  were  also  watching. 
No  one  had  cared  to  go  to  bed  without  knowing  that  we 
were  home. 

Nothing  would  do  but  we  must  relate  our  adventures ; 
it  needs  not  to  say  that  one  of  the  episodes  of  our  after- 
noon was  treated  very  gingerly.  Not  a  word  was  lisped 
of  Baudouin's  victory  in  the  Monin-Javot  arena.  The 
meeting  with  Captain  Biradent  and  the  duck  dinner  formed 
the  staple  of  our  narrative. 

We  had  just  concluded  it  when  a  loud  ring  at  the  bell 
of  the  front  door  caused  us  all  to  start. 

Who  could  it  be  at  such  an  hour  ? 

I  ran  to  the  window,  and,  to  my  extreme  surprise,  rec- 
ognized M.  Pellerin.  I  bounded  down  the  stairs,  taking 
four  at  a  leap,  to  receive  him  at  the  threshold. 


282  SCHO OLE OY  DAYS  IN  FRA NCE. 

"Ah,  Albert,  is  that  you?"  he  said.  "Observing  that 
you  had  not  gone  to  bed,  I  thought  there  would  be  no 
harm  in  stopping  and  ringing  at  your  bell." 

From  the  moment  I  set  eyes  on  him  I  had  been  struck 
by  my  dear  master's  grave,  almost  solemn  appearance. 
This  impression  was  enhanced  when,  after  the  usual  salu- 
tations and  additional  excuses  for  so  untimely  a  visit,  he 
seated  himself.  An  inexpressible  air  of  constraint  and 
gloom  apparent  in  his  manner  and  on  his  countenance 
told  us  that  so  unusual  a  proceeding  was  not  without  a 
motive,  and  that  that  motive  could  not  be  good  news.  We 
awaited  developments  with  an  anxious  curiosity  that  we 
found  it  difficult  to  hold  in  check. 

At  last  M.  Pellerin  seemed  to  nerve  himself  to  speak. 

"  I  have  a  communication  of  an  entirely  commercial 
nature  to  make  to  you,"  he  said  to  my  father  ;  "will  it  not 
be  better  to  spare  the  ladies'  ears  ?  " 

"  For  weal,  for  woe,"  replied  my  father,  "  we  have  every- 
thing here  in  common.  Speak,  M.  Pellerin,  as  if  you  had 
but  a  single  listener." 

M.  Pellerin  bowed  slightly. 

"  Do  you  still  continue  to  have  business  relations  with 
Lecachey's  firm  ? "  he  asked,  in  an  agitated  voice. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  my  father,  more  and  more  sur- 
prised, and  with  sudden  alarm.  "  They  are  our  bankers 
and  have  charge  of  our  financial  matters.  All  our  fortune, 
ready  money  and  securities,  is  in  their  hands." 

"  Ah  !  —  it  is  as  I  had  feared,"  M.  Pellerin  replied,  more 
dejectedly  even  than  before,  "and  that  is  why  I  came 
without  an  instant's  delay  to  apprize  you  of  what  is  going 
on.  You  are  possibly  aware  that  to-morrow  I  am  to 
deliver  the  customary  Latin  address  at  the  ceremony  of 
awarding  the  prizes  of  the  general  examinations.  I  was 


AUNT  AUBERT^S  IRE.  283 

tendered  a  dinner  by  some  friends  this  evening  in  celebra- 
tion of  that  honour,  and  after  the  repast  we  dropped  in  at 
one  of  the  principal  cafes  of  the  Boulevard  des  Italiens. 
It  seems  that  the  place  is  a  sort  of  exchange,  and  business 
men  were  there  in  numbers.  We  were  not  long  in  per- 
ceiving that  an  important  bit  of  news  was  in  circulation 
through  the  room ;  so  great  was  the  interest  that  it 
appeared  to  excite  among  many  of  the  gentlemen,  that 
we  heard  it  repeated  several  times  from  one  table  to 
another  — 

"  And  what  was  the  nature  of  that  news  ? "  asked  my 
father,  who  had  suddenly  become  deathly  pale. 

"  That  Lecachey's  bank  must  inevitably  close  its  doors 
to-morrow  morning.  Young  Lecachey,  that  horrible  little 
ne'er-do-well  that  you  know  of,  disappeared  last  Saturday, 
having  first  made  fraudulent  use  of  the  firm  signature  to 
withdraw  several  millions  —  two  or  three  millions,  it  is 
reported — of  bonds  and  securities  deposited  with  the 
Bank  of  France  to  the  credit  of  the  concern." 

"  Two  or  three  millions  !  "  exclaimed  my  father.  "  If 
that  is  true,  it  means  certain  ruin  !  " 

"  I  am  afraid  there  is  not  much  room  for  doubt.  Full 
details  were  given,  with  figures.  The  Lecachey  bank,  so 
everybody  said,  has  for  a  long  time  been  anything  but 
safe.  There  was  talk  of  heavy  losses  on  the  Bourse,  of 
extravagant  and  unjustifiable  expenses.  I  immediately 
thought  of  you,  and  hoped  that  if  warned  at  once  you 
might  do  something  to  protect  yourself.  In  any  event,  I 
thought  it  my  duty  to  put  you  in  possession  of  the  facts 
without  loss  of  a  minute's  time." 

My  father,  in  an  attitude  of  deep  discouragement,  his 
eye  lost  in  space,  shook  his  head  mournfully,  while  my 
mother,  Aunt  Aubert,  and  grandpa,  standing  around  him 


284  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

in  funereal  silence,  hung  on  his  lips,  and  waited  to  hear 
him  pronounce  the  verdict. 

"  It  means  bankruptcy ! "  he  said  at  last,  in  broken 
accents,  as  if  the  hateful  word  were  strangling  him.  "  Or 
if  not  that,  then  utter  ruin  for  us  all.  All  the  proceeds  of 
last  year's  sales,  all  my  bills  receivable  were  in  Lecachey's 
hands.  And  that  at  the  end  of  my  first  year's  business, 
when  I  had  sown  and  had  not  had  time  to  reap.  All  will 
have  to  go  to  pay  off  the  liabilities  - 

"But  you  talk  as  if  Lecachey  had  already  suspended," 
said  mamma.  "  How  do  you  know,  my  friend,  that  he 
will  not  weather  the  storm,  that  an  arrangement  will  not 
be  effected  ? " 

"  I  know  it,  everything  tells  me  so  !  "  my  father  vehe- 
mently replied.  "  Other  houses  might  stand  such  a  loss  ; 
Lecachey  cannot.  I  reproach  myself  for  having  done 
nothing  to  avert  the  consequences  of  such  a  catastrophe, 
for  I  have  felt,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion,  that  it 
was  liable  to  happen.  The  memory  of  kindnesses  ex- 
tended to  me  by  Lecachey  when  I  was  starting  in  the 
business  made  it  hard  for  me  to  reciprocate  the  trust  he 
put  in  me  with  suspicion.  Two  or  three  millions  are  a 
large  figure  for  a  house  whose  stability  is  already  dis- 
trusted. And  if  they  have  allowed  the  report  to  gain 
currency,  or  rather,  as  there  is  little  room  to  doubt,  they 
themselves  have  helped  to  circulate  it,  it  is  because 
they  can  see  no  possible  remedy,  and  their  decision  is 
arrived  at." 

All  those  things  my  father  said  coldly  and  in  tones 
bordering  on  moroseness.  But  that  coldness  and  that 
moroseness  caused  us  less  anxiety  than  the  state  of 
mute  prostration  in  which  we  had  observed  him  to  be 
sunk  for  the  last  few  minutes.  It  is  my  belief  that  my 


AUNT  AUBERT'S  IRE.  285 

mother  excited  and  pestered  him  purposely  with  her  con- 
tradictions, solely  that  she  might  not  see  him  overcome 
again  by  that  dejection. 

"  Even  though  you  should  sustain  a  great  loss,"  she 
said,  "  surely  it  cannot  amount  to  utter  ruin.  You  own 
the  factory  and  the  machinery,  your  credit  is  unimpaired, 
and  you  have  advantageous  contracts  with  the  best 
raisers  - 

"  Yes,  oh  yes,  I  have  all  those  things ! "  my  father 
bitterly  replied.  "That  is  the  way  you  women  look  at 
such  matters  !  You  know,  though,  do  you  not,  my  dear, 
that  we  are  doing  business  on  the  proceeds  of  the  loan 
hypothecated  on  our  real  estate,  and  which  amounts  to 
three  hundred  and  eighty  thousand  francs  ?  We  have 
with  Lecachey,  in  the  shape  of  deposits  and  time  loans, 
six  hundred  thousand  francs.  If  that  sum  is  lost  to  us 
—  and,  unfortunately,  there  seems  to  be  but  little  doubt 
that  such  is  the  case  —  a  suit  in  foreclosure  is  inevitable, 
for  I  shall  be  unable  to  continue  the  business  and,  conse- 
quently, shall  not  be  able  to  pay  the  interest  on  the  loan. 
My  equity  in  the  mortgaged  property  does  not  exceed 
one-third  of  its  value,  —  hence  you  can  see  that  a  fore- 
closure under  such  circumstances  is  equivalent  to  absolute 
ruin,  neither  more  nor  less.  I  believe,  I  trust,  however, 
providing  the  disaster  has  no  further  consequences,  that  I 
shall  be  able  to  meet  my  engagements.  But  there  is  no 
use  attempting  to  conceal  the  fact,  that  is  the  very  best 
that  I  can  hope  for,  and  in  all  probability  we  shall  be  left 
without  resources.  You  see,  my  dear,  that  I  do  not  try 
to  delude  you  with  false  hopes." 

I  had  approached  my  father,  and,  taking  his  hand  in 
mine,  endeavoured  to  cheer  him  with  warm  expressions 
of  affection. 


286  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  My  dear  son,"  he  said,  touching  my  forehead  with  his 
lips,  "it  is  not  for  my  own  sake  that  I  regret  our  fondly 
cherished  dream,  it  is  for  yours,  for  whom  I  had  hoped  to 
smooth  the  road  that  you  are  about  to  find  so  rough !  " 

"  Oh !  as  for  me,  father,  you  need  not  be  troubled  in 
the  least !  "  I  cried.  "  There  is  no  difficulty  from  which  a 
man  cannot  extricate  himself  by  patient  labour,  and  I 
shall  be  so  happy  to  work  for  you,  for  mamma,  for  all  of 
you !  What  is  the  difference,  after  all !  Instead  of 
studying  law,  an  expensive  profession  to  master,  and  slow 
in  its  results,  I  will  adopt  a  more  modest  calling  that  will 
yield  quick  returns." 

"  And  such  a  calling  is  open  to  you,"  said  M.  Pellerin. 
"Why  should  not  Albert  enter  the  Normal  School? 
With  his  prize  in  history  and  his  two  accessits,  it  will  be 
a  matter  easy  of  accomplishment.  You  are  aware  that  all 
the  scholars  there  are  pensioners  of  the  State.  Albert 
can  spend  three  years  there  under  the  best  instructors  in 
Paris,  receive  his  diploma,  and  at  once  obtain  a  professor- 
ship in  a  lycee.  Teaching  is  a  career  of  great  promise, 
and  which  cannot  fail  to  be  attractive,  even  from  a 
material  point  of  view.  France  is  in  need  of  competent 
teachers,  and  will  find  before  long  that  she  must  pay 
them  in  other  coin  than  consideration.  And  if  my  young 
friend  here  feels  no  inclination  for  the  professorial  career, 
there  are  other  reputable  callings  whose  doors  will  be 
opened  to  him  by  the  training  he  will  receive  in  the  Rue 
d'Ulm.  Literature,  the  higher  journalism,  posts  in  the 
public  service,  private  positions  of  trust,  are  all,  at  all 
times,  ready  and  anxious  to  give  employment  to  graduates 
of  the  Normal  School." 

In  moments  of  despair  the  troubled  and  vacillating 
mind  grasps  at  anything  that  affords  ground  for  hope.  It 


AUNT  AUBERT'S  IRE.  287 

was  evident,  from  the  interest  awakened  in  my  father  by 
this  discussion,  that  it  had  been  beneficial  to  him,  if  in 
nothing  else  than  by  diverting  his  thoughts  from  the 
painful  anxieties  that  were  torturing  him. 

Baudouin,  who  had  preserved  silence  until  now,  here 
offered  a  suggestion  : 

"In  case  none  of  those  projects  should  prove  agreeable 
to  Albert,"  he  said,  "  I  have  another  to  propose  to  him  — 
indeed,  I  may  say  that  I  have  two.  The  first  is  to  embark 
with  me  for  Australia  or  South  America,  where  we  will 
make  our  fortune  as  so  many  others  have  done  before 
us  — 

At  this  point  M.  Pellerin  frowned,  significantly. 

"  The  second  is  to  lead  the  life  of  a  trapper  right  here 
in  Paris,  living  like  a  hermit,  while  laying  in  your  store  of 
knowledge,  and  come  and  share  my  room  with  me." 

"  Your  room  ?  "  I  queried,  in  astonishment. 

"  Yes  ;  my  mind  is  made  up  to  enter  the  Art  School 
and  be  a  sculptor,  —  unless  you  think  you  would  rather  go 
to  Rio  Janeiro  and  be  a  cow-puncher.  I  have  made  in- 
quiries and  been  in  correspondence  with  my  good  mother 
on  the  question  of  ways  and  means,  and  this  is  what  I  am 
going  to  do  :  I  shall  hire,  somewhere  over  in  the  direction 
of  the  Boulevard  Montparnasse,  a  chamber  that  will  cost 
me  sixty  francs  a  year.  I  shall  furnish  it  with  a  bed,  two 
chairs,  a  table,  a  few  toilet  and  kitchen  utensils,  all  which 
mamma  will  send  me  from  Bourgas,  with  what  linen  may 
be  required.  I  have  calculated  that  I  shall  be  able  to  live 
in  clover  on  seven  hundred  francs  a  year.  My  budget  is 
made  up  :  rent,  sixty  francs  ;  provisions,  that  I  propose 
to  cook  myself,  soldier  fashion,  one  franc  a  day  —  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  francs  a  year  ;  fuel  and  gas,  fifty 
francs  ;  laundry  and  clothing,  two  hundred  francs  ;  inci- 


• 


288  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

dentals,  seventy-five  francs.  So  you  see  it  is  a  question  of 
earning  sixty-two  to  sixty-three  francs  a  month  to  enable 
me  to  model  at  my  ease.  The  deuce  is  in  it  if  I  can't  ob- 
tain pupils,  secure  copying  to  do,  or  get  some  kind  of 
a  job  of  that  nature  that  will  afford  me  the  desired  income. 
At  the  start,  if  necessary,  to  overcome  the  initial  difficul- 
ties, I  will  give  the  half,  or  even  two-thirds  of  my  time. 
But  it  is  evident  that  the  plan  could  be  carried  out  by  two 
much  more  cheaply  than  by  one  :  the  larger  expenses,  such 
as  those  for  rent,  heating  and  lighting,  would  be  halved, 
the  cost  of  provisions  reduced  by  a  clear  third.  I  am  cer- 
tain that  we  could  manage  to  live  on  fifty  francs  a  month. 
A  fellow  can  carry  a  hod  at  a  pinch,  if  driven  to  it !  The 
great  point  is  to  have  a  definite  object  in  view  and  never 
lose  sight  of  it. 

Baudouin,  usually  so  shy  and  silent,  spoke  with  singular 
enthusiasm.  It  was  clear  that  he  was  giving  us  the  ab- 
stract and  epitome  of  his  inmost  reflections,  his  secret  and 
his  scheme  of  life.  He  had  nothing  else  that  he  could 
call  his  own, —  he  bestowed  it  on  us  freely. 

As  for  me,  and  this  will  not  surprise  those  who  stop  to 
think  how  old  I  was  at  that  time,  this  picture  of  a  joyous 
partnership  in  poverty  attracted  me  powerfully,  —  "  mad 
cow  "  appears  so  appetizing  to  one,  so  long  as  he  is  not 
obliged  to  make  it  his  regular  diet.  But  M.  Pellerin  did 
not  allow  me  time  to  contemplate  this  beatific  dream. 

"  My  dear  young  friend,"  he  said  to  Baudouin,  "to  look 
unmoved  on  the  prospect  of  from  ten  to  fifteen  years'  un- 
ceasing struggle  against  the  meanest  and  most  repulsive 
difficulties  of  life,  with  artistic  glory  as  the  guerdon  at  the 
end,  is  characteristic  of  a  valiant  soul.  But  it  is  one  of 
those  exceptional  enterprises  in  which  no  one  should  em- 
bark unless  he  is  sure  he  has  the  sacred  fire.  Adopt  that 


AUNT  AUBERT'S  IRE.  289 

course  if  you  feel  your  loins  are  strong  enough  for  .it,  but 
do  not  counsel  others  to  follow  your  example.  Let  Albert 
pursue  a  smoother  road,  which  will  be  for  that  reason  a 
safer  one." 

Here  Aunt  Aubert  joined  in  the  conversation. 

"That  is  well  said/1  she  declared,  "and  it  is  the  first 
sensible  word  I  have  heard  spoken  this  night.  I  really 
cannot  help  thinking  I  am  dreaming,  hearing  you  all  talk 
as  if  we  were  to  be  knocking  at  the  poorhouse  door  to- 
morrow. You  owe  a  great  deal  of  money,  then  ?  "  she 
asked,  addressing  my  father. 

"  No,  thank  God.  I  settled  last  month  for  our  last 
cargoes  of  beets,  and  the  accounts  are  balanced." 

"  What,  you  owe  nothing  and  give  way  to  despair  ?  If 
I  understand  aright,  you  lose  by  Lecachey's  failure  all 
your  working  capital,  together  with  the  profits  of  the 
year? " 

"That  is  correct." 

"  That  being  the  case,  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  the 
business  going  on  if  you  could  obtain  fresh  capital  ? " 

"  No,  certainly." 

"  And  is  three  hundred  to  four  hundred  thousand  francs 
the  smallest  sum  that  you  can  go  on  with  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  !  certainly  not.  The  half  of  it  would  answer, 
and  even  less.  I  would  conduct  the  business  on  a  more 
modest  scale,  that 's  all." 

"  That  is  what  I  supposed.  You  see  that  everything  is 
arranged  and  that  there  is  no  necessity  for  worrying  an 
instant  longer." 

My  father  wondered  whether  Aunt  Aubert  were  not 
taking  leave  of  her  senses. 

"  Why  do  you  look  at  me  in  that  way  ? "  she  went  on. 
"  The  matter  is  perfectly  simple,  and  I  think  that  I  talk 


SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

French.  I  have  eight  thousand  two  hundred  francs  of 
rente  on  the  grand  livre,  have  n't  I  ?  and  I  have  always 
been  counting  on  leaving  them  to  that  great  nephew  of 
mine.  Very  well ;  you  take  them  to-morrow  morning,  you 
convert  them  into  cabbages,  or  turnips,  or  loaves  of  sugar 
—  and  there  you  are  !  The  business  runs  along  as  if  on 
wheels,  you  pay  the  interest  on  your  loan,  you  extinguish 
the  loan  itself  by  instalments,  and  you  give  no  more 
thought  to  Lecachey,  Son  &  Company  than  if  those 
amiable  individuals  had  never  been  born." 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Aubert !  It  is  out  of  the  question  !  -  -  we 
can  never  agree  to  that !  "  cried  in  chorus  my  father, 
mamma,  and  grandpa. 

Aunt  Aubert  drew  herself  up  to  her  full  height.  I 
never  saw  her  really  angry  but  once  in  my  life,  and  that 
was  on  this  present  occasion. 

"  Out  of  the  question  !  Can  never  agree  to  it  !  I 
should  like  to  know  what  you  mean,  if  you  please ! "  she 
cried,  in  a  tone  that  admitted  of  no  reply.  "  Have  I  not 
been  eating  your  bread  for  sixteen  years  ?  Am  I  a 
stranger  in  this  house  ?  Are  we  to  begin  at  this  late 
day  to  figure  up  what  is  one's  and  what  is  another's  ?  So  be 
it,  then.  I  will  go  pack  my  trunk  and  leave  you,  this  in- 
stant. I  shall  take  Albert  with  me,  though,  understand ! 
He  is  the  only  one  who  loves  me  here  — 

My  mother  and  I  went  to  Aunt  Aubert  and  threw  our 
arms  about  her  neck.  The  dear  lady  was  looking  for  her 
shawl ;  in  her  righteous  indignation  it  seemed  to  her  that 
she  needed  no  other  preparation  for  departure.  We  em- 
braced her,  tenderly,  seeking  to  appease  her  with  soothing 
words. 

"  No,  you  are  a  set  of  ingrates,  all  is  at  an  end  between 
us.  I  am  going  —  I  shall  take  an  apartment  in  the  quar- 


*I    SHALL    TAKE    ALBERT    WITH    ME,    UNDERSTAND! 


AUNT  AUBERT'S  IRE.  293 

ter  of  the  Pantheon.  Albert  will  come  and  live  with  me 
and  pursue  his  legal  studies.  My  mind  is  quite  made  up 
unless  you  people  here  can  give  up  treating  me  as  a 
stranger." 

Her  anger  had  given  way  to  more  tender  sentiments 
and  she  was  weeping  hot  tears ;  there  was  nothing  left 
for  us  to  do  but  humbly  ask  forgiveness  and  accept  her 
offer.  My  father  was  both  deeply  affected  and  provoked. 

"If  I  yield  to  you,"  he  said,  "it  can  only  be  on  one 
condition,  —  that  you  become  a  partner  in  the  concern 
and  let  me  act  as  your  attorney." 

In  her  present  frame  of  mind  Aunt  Aubert  was  pre- 
pared to  make  any  concession.  This  scruple  amused  her, 
however. 

"  Arrange  matters  to  suit  yourself,  it  is  your  business  ; 
I  know  nothing  whatever  about  it,  nor  do  I  wish  to  know. 
The  main  point  is  that  Albert  shall  be  at  liberty  to  choose 
a  career  to  his  liking.  Further  than  that  I  ask  for 
nothing." 

What  answer  was  there  to  arguments  like  these  ?  We 
could  only  bow  before  such  disinterested  kindness. 

In  the  mutual  tenderness  of  the  members  of  a  family, 
when  manifested  in  actions  like  my  aunt's,  there  is  a 
secret  virtue  that  dilates  the  heart  and  elevates  it  above 
the  calamity  of  the  moment.  Misfortune,  even,  is  not 
without  its  attendant  solace  :  it  serves  to  bring  to  light 
the  affection  and  devotion  of  those  around  us. 

Again,  it  is  the  property  of  these  great  moral  disturb- 
ances to  show  life  as  in  epitome  and  indicate  by  a  sudden 
inspiration  the  safest  road  to  follow.  But  now  you  were 
undecided,  you  knew  not  which  way  to  turn.  Now  the 
veil  is  stripped  away,  and  you  see  distinctly  in  which 
direction  your  duty  lies. 


294  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE, 

That  is  what  occurred  in  my  case. 

"Dear  father,"  I  suddenly  said,  "since  you  are  going 
to  have  Aunt  Aubert  as  your  partner,  why  not  take  me  as 
your  aide-de-camp?  Your  task  henceforth  will  be  one 
that  will  tax  your  strength,  you  will  have  need  of  a 
reliable  and  devoted  assistant.  Suffer  me  to  be  that 
assistant.  The  education  that  you  have  given  me  will 
not  interfere  with  my  becoming  a  good  mechanic.  And 
besides,  I  can  complete  it  by  special  studies  while  learning 
the  rudiments  of  the  business,  since,  thanks  to  your  fore- 
sight, my  time  has  been  shared  between  scientific  and 
literary  pursuits.  I  entreat  you,  father,  let  me  have  the 
pleasure  of  assisting  you  in  repairing  our  disaster." 

My  father's  only  reply  was  to  fold  me  in  his  arms  with 
an  eloquent  tenderness  which  said : 

"  So  let  it  be  !  " 

When  M.  Pellerin  left  us  about  midnight  the  clouds 
seemed  to  have  passed  away  and  our  sky  to  have  resumed 
its  serenity.  Aunt  Aubert 's  confidence  and  good  cheer 
had  completed  the  work  of  her  generous  sacrifice. 

We  would  have  kept  our  excellent  friend  and  given 
him  a  bed,  but  he  said  he  must  go  home  and  look  over 
his  Latin  oration  for  the  last  time.  There  was  almost  a 
smile  on  my  father's  face  as  he  thanked  the  professor  for 
coming  so  far  to  warn  us  of  the  impending  disaster,  and 
when  we  retired,  after  a  mutual  exchange  of  heartfelt 
embraces,  it  was  with  a  sensation  of  pride  and  gratitude 
that  we  were  blessed  with  such  good  friends,  and  of 
renewed  strength  due  to  the  virile  resolutions  that  the 
unforeseen  catastrophe  had  shown  us  to  be  necessary. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

AT   THE    SORBONNE. A    BUNCH    OF    PRIZES. LATEST 

INTELLIGENCE. CONCLUSION. 

WHEN  morning  came,  however,  black  care  had  reas- 
serted its  rights.  My  father  had  gone  out  early  in 
quest  of  information.  He  had  ascertained  that  there  was  no 
possible  doubt  as  to  the  downfall  of  the  Lecachey  bank, 
and  when  brought  face  to  face  with  stern  figures  and 
realities  he  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  be  cheerful  in 
presence  of  the  ruin  of  all  his  hopes. 

"The  wreck  is  complete,  ship  and  cargo,"  he  said  to  us 
at  breakfast,  "but  our  honour  is  safe." 

He  would  hot  absent  himself  from  the  distribution  of 
the  prizes  awarded  at  the  annual  examinations.  The 
ceremony,  as  was  the  custom,  took  place  in  the  great 
ampitheatre  of  the  Sorbonne.  He  had  found  places  for 
himself,  mamma,  Aunt  Aubert,  and  grandpa  in  the  gallery 
to  the  left  of  the  stage,  not  far  from  where  Pere  Plaisir, 
Mounerol's  grandfather,  was  seated,  who  had  come  up  to 
town  that  morning  rejoicing  in  a  brand-new  suit  of  clothes 
purchased  expressly  for  the  great  occasion.  On  the  benches, 
that  rose  in  tiers,  were  the  noisy,  clattering  undergraduates, 
in  uniform  or  plain  clothes,  according  as  they  hailed  from 
Sainte-Barbe  or  Descartes,  Saint-Louis  or  Condorcet, 
Rollin  or  Charlemagne,  Stanislas  or  Montaigne.  On 
every  side  elegant  toilets,  the  rustling  of  silks,  the  tossing 


296  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

of  feathers  and  flowers,  the  waving  of  fans,  the  charming 
faces  of  mothers  and  sisters. 

My  place  was  in  the  front  row  of  my  lycee,  where 
Payan,  Dutheil,  Segol,  and  Baudouin  were  my  neighbours. 
But  in  the  midst  of  all  that  jollity  it  almost  broke  my 
heart  to  see  the  look  of  profound  melancholy  that  was 
reflected  in  my  father's  dull  and  vacant  eyes.  It  was 
evident  that  the  idea  of  his  —  or  rather  our  —  disaster  had 
taken  possession  of  him  and  would  not  be  dispossessed. 
Grief  for  losing  in  a  day  the  fruit  of  so  many  years  of 
patient  toil,  the  reproaches  that  he  heaped  on  himself  for 
having  risked  the  means  that  should  have  been  devoted  to 
the  support  of  his  family,  and,  yet  more,  perhaps,  mortifi- 
cation that  he  was  powerless  to  retrieve  his  position  with- 
out endangering  Aunt  Aubert's  little  fortune,  —  all  these 
considerations  preyed  on  his  mind  and  destroyed  all  inter- 
est in  the  gay  spectacle  that  lay  before  him. 

It  was  in  vain  that  mamma  tried  to  divert  him  by 
pointing  out  the  distinguished  persons  in  the  boxes.  It 
was  in  vain  that  he  himself  made  an  effort  from  time  to 
time  to  speak  a  word  of  kindness  to  Pere  Plaisir  and 
explain  to  him  what  was  going  on  before  his  eyes,  —  the 
one  dominant  idea  quickly  recovered  its  ascendency  and 
my  father  again  gave  way  to  his  sorrowful  reflections. 
He  hardly  raised  his  head  when  the  roll  of  the  drums 
announced  the  arrival  of  the  official  cortege. 

He  watched,  with  languid  interest,  the  procession  defile 
upon  the  stage,  the  Minister  of  Public  Instruction  in  rich 
ceremonial  attire,  the  Academicians  in  their  dress  coats 
embroidered  with  green  palm-branches,  the  Faculties 
preceded  by  their  mace  -  bearers,  the  great  dignitaries, 
senators,  generals,  and  councillors  of  State,  interspersed 
with  judicial  and  municipal  magistrates,  the  vice-rector  of 


AT   THE  SORBONNE.  297 

the  University  and  his  corps  of  inspectors,  the  principals 
and  professors  of  colleges  in  gown  and  red  or  yellow  cap, 
and,  bringing  up  the  rear,  the  young  men  of  the  Normal 
School,  their  buttonholes  decked  with  violets. 

When  all  these  notables  had  obtained  seats,  the  digni- 
taries and  invited  guests  upon  the  platform,  the  masters 
and  prospective  professors  on  the  lower  benches  of  the 
amphitheatre,  the  Minister  called  the  assemblage  to  order, 
and  requested  M.  Pellerin  to  proceed  with  his  oration. 

I  saw  my  father's  face  brighten  for  an  instant  at  men- 
tion of  the  familiar  name.  He  bent  forward  in  his  seat  in 
order  that  he  might  hear  more  distinctly,  and  was  evi- 
dently summoning  up  his  oldtime  memories  of  Latin  to 
catch  the  meaning  of  the  first  periods  of  the  well-turned 
address.  Two  or  three  times,  when  some  more  than 
usually  happy  allusion  was  greeted  by  the  audience  with 
applause,  I  saw  a  faint  smile  play  about  his  dear  lips.  But 
presently,  as  if  soothed  by  some  soporific  influence  in  the 
stately  periods  that  sounded  in  his  ears,  he  appeared  to 
lose  consciousness  of  what  was  going  on  around  him,  and 
sank  back  into  his  previous  condition  of  atony. 

M.  Pellerin's  oration,  however,  delivered  in  a  clear  and 
well-modulated  voice,  was  an  undoubted  success.  Con- 
noisseurs admired  it  for  its  pure  Latinity,  and  others  for 
its  covert  allusions,  which  more  learned  friends  translated 
for  their  benefit.  He  had,  moreover,  a  merit  that  is  as 
highly  appreciated  as  it  is  rare :  he  was  brief,  and  in  con- 
sequence received  the  unanimous  applause  of  the  mammas 
and  little  sisters  as  well  as  the  papas  and  students. 

Then  the  Minister  who  presided  came  forward  and 
spoke,  in  French  on  this  occasion,  not  only  to  the  audience 
of  the  Sorbonne,  one  might  say,  but  to  France  and  to  all 
Europe.  He  mentioned  the  innovations  and  improve- 


298  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

,  ments  that  had  been  introduced  into  the  system  during 
the  current  year  and  those  that  he  had  in  mind  for  the 
coming  year.  His  address  had  all  the  significance  of  a 
manifesto,  and,  as  it  unfolded  its  somewhat  prosy  length, 
reporters  might  be  seen  speeding  away  to  their  respective 
offices  to  give  the  paper  the  words  of  wisdom  that  they 
had  caught  hot  from  the  speaker's  mouth. 

My  father  alone  appeared  to  take  no  interest  in  the 
proceedings,  and  to  have  ears  only  for  the  torturing 
reflections  that  were  rankling  in  his  bosom. 

At  last  the,  to  us,  important  ceremony  of  conferring 
the  honours  began.  The  Minister  in  person  announced 
the  recipient  of  the  great  prize  in  mathematics,  and  be- 
stowed his  crown  on  Payan.  Then  came  the  inferior 
prizes,  announced  by  the  inspector  of  the  academy,  and 
the  prizes  of  honour  in  philosophy  and  rhetoric,  which 
were  awarded  respectively  by  the  First  President  of  the 
Court  of  Cassation  and  the  Commander-in-chief  of  the 
army. 

I  observed  a  singular  phenomenon,  which  was  that  the 
applause  of  the  audience  was  regulated,  as  was  the  number 
of  volumes  given  as  prizes,  by  the  importance  of  the  subject. 
Thus,  each  prize  of  honour  consisted  of  forty  sumptuously 
bound  volumes,  with  the  arms  of  the  Sorbonne  and  the 
legend  "  Concours  GMral"  stamped  on  the  covers,  and 
gave  rise  to  repeated  salvos  of  applause.  The  winners  of 
first  and  second  prizes,  who  got  respectively  six  and  four 
volumes,  received  in  the  former  case  two  salvos,  in  the 
latter  one.  Finally,  the  names  of  the  accessit  men,  who 
got  no  books  at  all,  were  generally  rattled  off  with 
strange  rapidity,  in  the  midst  of  a  contemptuous  silence. 
Sometimes,  however,  it  chanced  that  the  name  of  an 
honour  man,  who  had  been  called  up  more  than  once  even 


AT   THE  SORBONNE.  299 

for  accessits,  or  was  an  especial  favourite  with  his  com- 
rades, aroused  the  enthusiasm  of  his  lyce"e  —  which  gener- 
ally provoked  reprisals  on  the  part  of  a  rival  lyce"e,  at  the 
first  opportunity. 

Another  fact  worthy  of  mention  :  the  prize  of  honour 
in  rhetoric  received  the  heartiest  ovation  of  all. 

Greatly  to  my  satisfaction,  it  was  at  last  given  me  on 
this  occasion  to  see  an  appreciable  effect  produced  among 
the  occupants  of  the  left-hand  gallery. 

At  the  moment  when  Mounerol  mounted  the  platform 
to  receive  his  crown,  I  saw  my  father  grasp  the  hand  of 
Pere  Plaisir,  who  was  shedding  tears  of  joy,  and  give  it  a 
cordial  shake.  Then,  when  my  name  was  called  for  the 
first  time  in  French  composition  and  was  cheered  by  the 
Montaignes,  I  saw  my  father  smile  on  me,  affectionately, 
while  mamma,  Aunt  Aubert,  and  grandpa  craned  their 
heads  forward  as  if  saying  : 

"  He  is  our  boy  !  that  is  our  Albert !  " 

But  now  the  inspector,  to  whom  of  right  belongs  the 
privilege  of  reading  the  honour  lists,  has  passed  the  sched- 
ule to  an  illustrious  savant,  full  of  years  and  glory,  who 
rises  and  says  : 

"  Grand  prize  in  history,  founded  by  the  Historical  So- 
ciety of  France.  First  prize,  Albert  Besnard,  freshman, 
of  the  Lycee  Montaigne." 

Thunders  of  applause.  I  rise  with  unsteady  steps,  I 
mount  the  platform,  I  receive  my  crown  and  forty  vol- 
umes, and  return  to  my  seat  among  my  comrades,  who 
howl,  clap,  and  stamp  their  feet  in  a  way  to  make  one  fear 
for  the  safety  of  the  building.  I  finally  have  a  chance  to 
give  a  look  at  my  parents.  What  words  are  capable  of 
expressing  my  delight  on  beholding  the  change  that  has 
come  over  my  father's  countenance  ? 


30O  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

His  sorrows  have  fled  and  left  him.  He  has  forgotten 
that  he  has  so  lately  lost  a  fortune.  His  dear  face  is  as  I 
love  to  see  it,  cheerful  and  smiling,  and  is  no  longer  dark- 
ened by  the  cloud  of  melancholy  that  has  rested  on  it  all 
the  morning. 

Ah,  how  deeply  I  felt  at  that  moment  what  joy  and 
comfort  the  least  successes  of  their  children  afford  loving 
parents !  How  clearly  it  dawned  upon  my  mind,  that 
work,  and  work  alone,  is  the  great  remedy  for  the  troubles 
and  cares  of  life !  How  I  thanked  in  my  heart  M.  Pellerin 
for  having  restored  to  me  my  studious  habits  and  M. 
Aveline  for  having  shown  me  the  right  way  of  learning 
history !  How  I  vowed  to  myself  that  never,  never 
should  my  father  have  reason  to  wear  a  face  other  than 
that  he  wore  then,  the  face  of  happy  days  and  hours  of 
triumph. 

The  reign  of  sadness  ended  with  that  moment.  It  had 
vanished  utterly.  I  saw  my  father  chatting  with  Pere 
Plaisir,  asking  him  for  latest  news  from  Chatillon,  ques- 
tioning him  as  to  his  plans  for  the  future.  And  Aunt 
Aubert !  and  mamma  !  and  grandpa  !  surely,  no  one  looking 
at  them  would  ever  have  imagined  that  ruin  and  disaster 
were  seated  at  our  hearth.  My  prize  in  history  had  out- 
weighed the  half  million  and  more  that  had  taken  wing 
and  vanished. 

But  the  ceremony,  like  all  things  earthly,  came  to  an 
end.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  with  that  celerity  for 
which  Parisian  assemblages  are  noticeable,  the  great  am- 
phitheatre was  empty.  My  father  had  invited  Jean  Mou- 
nerol  and  his  grandfather  to  dine  with  us.  The  presence 
of  two  first  honour  men  in  the  courtyard  of  the  Sorbonne, 
as  may  be  imagined,  caused  no  little  commotion.  Our 
books  formed  quite  a  library,  —  no  less  than  two  cabs  were 


AT   THE   SORBONNE.  30! 

needed  to  transport  them.  And  then  the  adieux,  the  em- 
braces, and  hand-shakings  that  remained  to  be  exchanged 
with  those  good  and  loyal  comrades,  many  of  whom, 
unable  to  obtain  access  to  the  amphitheatre,  had  crowded 
around  the  doors  to  cheer  us  at  our  exit.  All  these  cir- 
cumstances did  not  help  to  facilitate  our  movements,  and 
but  for  Baudouin  we  might  never  have  got  away.  But 
nothing  was  capable  of  daunting  him.  He  ran  around  in 
the  Boulevard  Saint-Michel  and  engaged  carriages,  brought 
them  back  in  triumph,  amid  the  envious  glances  of  the 
throng,  anxious  to  be  gone,  and  piled  our  prizes  on  the 
driver's  seat,  stuffed  them  into  corners,  bestowed  them 
wherever  there  was  an  inch  of  room. 

And  he,  too,  although  he  little  suspected  it,  was  to  have 
his  prize  of  honour. 

While  we  were  waiting  for  M.  Pellerin,  who  was  to 
return  with  us  to  Billancourt,  and  had  left  us  a  moment  to 
lay  aside  his  gown,  Pere  Plaisir  pricked  up  his  ears  on 
hearing  the  name  Baudouin  mentioned. 

"Excuse  me,  monsieur,"  he  said,  "but  are  you  Mon- 
sieur Jacques  Baudouin,  of  Bourgas,  near  Chatillon  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  am,  Pere  Plaisir ;  you  know  me  well 
enough,  and,  believe  me,  I  am  delighted  to  meet  you  here 
again  on  such  an  auspicious  occasion." 

"  Ah !  you  will  excuse  me ;  you  see  my  eyesight  is  not 
as  good  as  it  used  to  be,  and  then  you  have  grown  so 
since  you  left  us.      But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there,  - 
I  have  a  letter  for  you  from  the  mayor  of  Chatillon." 

"  From  the  mayor  of  Chatillon  ?  Indeed  !  I  wonder 
what  he  can  have  to  say  to  me,"  Baudouin  exclaimed, 
while  Pere  Plaisir,  after  fumbling  in  his  pockets  for  quite 
a  while,  finally  produced  an  official  looking  document 
bearing  the  seal  of  the  mairie. 


302  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  what  is  in  it.  M.  le  Maire  did  n't 
tell  me.  Hearing  that  I  was  coming  up  to  Paris  to  see 
my  grandson  receive  his  prizes,  he  just  handed  me  this, 
and  told  me  to  be  sure  to  give  it  to  you  in  person." 

Baudouin  broke  the  seal  and  read  aloud  : 

"  Monsieur: —  I  have  the  pleasure  to  inform  you  that  the  munic- 
ipal council  of  Chatillon-Sur-Leze,  having  been  apprised  of  the 
remarkable  talent,  in  the  opinion  of  experts,  exhibited  by  you  in 
matters  of  art,  and  of  your  determination  to  devote  yourself  to  the 
study  of  sculpture,  and  having  further  ascertained  that  you  are  the 
only  son  of  a  widow  and  without  means  for  your  support  while  pur- 
suing the  aforesaid  studies,  has  at  its  meeting  of  this  day  adopted 
the  following  resolution : 

"  First — A  donation  of.  one  thousand  francs,  from  the  funds  of 
the  commune,  is  hereby  voted  to  M.  Jacques  Baudouin  to  enable  him 
to  pursue  his  studies  at  the  Ecole  des  Beaux-arts  in  Paris. 

"  Secondly  —  This  subvention  shall  be  renewed  at  the  expiration 
of  the  year  on  receipt  of  a  satisfactory  report  from  the  director  of 
the  school. 

"  Be  pleased  to  accept,  monsieur,  the  assurance  of  my  distin- 
guished consideration. 

"  HENRI  JUHEL, 

"  Mayor  of  Chdtillon. 

"  To  Monsieur  Jacques  Baudouin,  inmate  of  the  Lyce"e  Montaigne, 
Paris." 

"  This  is  M.  Pellerin's  doing,  I  would  n't  be  afraid  to 
swear  to  it !  "  exclaimed  Baudouin,  red  with  surprise  and 
delight,  while  we  embraced  him  as  if  we  would  devour 
him. 

At  this  moment,  M.  Pellerin  was  seen  descending  the 
staircase  from  the  cloak-room. 

We  were  astounded  to  see  that  he,  usually  so  sedate, 
who  had  just  delivered  the  Latin  oration  of  the  year,  was 
running,  actually  running  toward  us.  A  professor  of  rheto- 


BAUDOUIN    BROKE    THE    SEAL    AND    READ    ALOUD/ 


AT   THE  SORBONNE.  305 

ric !  In  the  courtyard  of  the  Sorbonne !  Had  those 
venerable  walls  ever  witnessed  such  a  sight  before ! 

He  held  in  his  hand  a  newspaper,  which  he  waved  above 
his  head  as  he  approached  us. 

"Great  news!"  he  shouted,  from  a  distance.  "The 
disaster  is  averted,  Monsieur  Besnard !  Here  is  the  first 
edition  of  the  Temps ;  a  friend  just  gave  it  me.  Read 
what  it  says  under  the  heading  '  Latest  ! ' ' 

My  father  took  the  paper,  and,  following  Baudouin's 
example,  read  aloud  : 

"  LATEST.  Amsterdam,  Monday,  2.50  A.M.  —  The  young  man, 
Lecachey,  who  robbed  his  father's  bank  of  two  million  eight  hundred 
and  thirty -nine  thousand  francs,  and  absconded,  was  arrested  on 
board  the  steamer  Weser,  just  as  she  was  on  the  point  of  sailing  for 
New  York.  He  had  taken  passage  under  a  fictitious  name,  but 
broke  down  under  the  adroit  questioning  of  the  detectives,  admitted 
his  identity,  and  made  a  full  confession.  The  entire  sum  was  found 
in  his  travelling  bag,  with  the  exception  of  two  one  thousand-franc 
notes,  which  he  had  converted  into  gold  before  leaving  Paris.  The 
courts  have  taken  cognizance  of  the  affair,  and  the  criminal's 
extradition  will  probably  be  granted  within  two  or  three  days." 

And  to  the  despatch  was  appended  the  following 
news  item  : 

"  P.S.  —  We  learn  that  Lecachey's  bank,  which  was  compelled  to 
close  its  doors  in  consequence  of  the  above-mentioned  defalcation, 
will  proceed  to  liquidate,  and  probably  pay  its  creditors  a  dividend  of 
from  forty  to  fifty  per  cent." 

A  great  load  was  removed  from  my  father's  bosom ;  the 
deep  sigh  of  relief  he  gave  spoke  eloquently  of  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  past  eighteen  hours.  He  kissed  my  mother 
and  me  in  silence,  then  took  Aunt  Aubert's  hand  and 
raised  it  respectfully  to  his  lips. 


306  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

"  Come,  come,  cousin  !  are  you  going  to  stand  on  cere- 
mony with  me  again  to-day  ? "  she  said,  kissing  him  in 
turn,  and  more  deeply  moved  by  his  little  demonstration 
than  she  cared  to  show.  "  Let  us  be  off  at  once  for 
Billancourt,  else  I  shall  not  be  in  time  to  look  to  the 
dinner !  " 

That  the  drive  home  was  merry,  the  repast  cordial  and 
joyous,  are  facts  that  I  think  no  one  will  dispute. 

M.  Pellerin,  M.  Aveline,  M.  Desbans,  Captain  Biradent, 
Pere  Plaisir,  and  Criquet,  all  seated  around  our  board,  a 
prize  of  honour  in  the  house,  a  thousand-franc  scholarship 
for  Baudouin,  the  half  of  a  large  fortune  recovered  as  if 
by  miracle,  —  and,  withal,  a  variety  of  delicious  little  dishes 
prepared  by  Aunt  Aubert's  own  fair  hands,  —  assuredly 
these  things  were  more  than  sufficient  to  put  us  all  in  high 
good  humour.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  repeat  the  toasts 
that  were  drunk  at  dessert  to  the  success  of  the  three 
representatives  of  the  future  who  were  seated  at  that 
friendly  board,  but  looking  back  from  a  distance  of  fifteen 
years,  it  is  gratifying  to  reflect  that  all  those  kind  wishes 
have  been  fully  realized. 

Jacques  Baudouin,  entering  the  ficole  des  Beaux-arts 
that  same  year,  three  years  later  a  student  in  Rome  under 
the  auspices  of  the  State,  is  now,  as  everybody  is  aware, 
one  of  those  whose  achievements  in  sculpture  reflect  glory 
upon  France.  He  has  lately  been  given  an  order  for 
some  important  work  for  the  City  of  Paris  ;  his  fame  is 
growing  every  day,  and,  while  waiting  for  a  fortune,  he 
enjoys  a  competency.  He  has  never  ceased  to  be  my 
best  friend. 

Jean  Mounerol,  graduating  from  the  Ecole  Normale  with 
the  highest  honours,  is  to-day  one  of  the  most  eloquent 
and  popular  professors  of  the  College  de  France. 


AT   THE   SORBONNE.  307 

As  for  myself,  my  three  children,  for  whom  I  have 
thrown  together  these  brief  recollections,  know  that  I 
chose  a  career  less  brilliant  than  that  of  my  two  friends, 
and  sought  an  independence  in  the  pursuits  of  business,  at 
the  side  of  my  father,  of  whom  I  was  long  the  assistant, 
whose  partner  I  am  to-day.  Happiness,  as  much  of  it  as 
I  could  wish  for,  I  have  never  failed  to  find  in  the  society 
of  their  lovely  mother,  my  own,  and  our  dear  Aunt 
Aubert. 

Our  circumstances  have  not  always  been  as  prosperous 
as  they  are  now.  Notwithstanding  Aunt  Aubert's  gener- 
ous devotion,  and  the  recovery  of  a  portion  of  the  Lecachey 
indebtedness,  times  have  occasionally  been  hard  with  us. 

That  partial  recovery,  even,  was  very  slow,  for  the 
wound  inflicted  on  the  credit  of  the  bank  ultimately 
proved  fatal  to  it ;  it  never  regained  its  former  standing, 
and  the  unhappy  Lecachey,  ruined  by  the  criminal  folly 
of  his  son,  and  the  universal  censure,  which  affixed  an 
indelible  stigma  to  his  name,  was  obliged  to  leave  the 
country. 

It  needed  the  united  efforts  of  us  all  to  stem  the  tide 
of  difficulties,  force  our  way  upward,  step  by  step,  to  the 
position  we  occupied  before,  and,  at  the  end  of  ten  years 
of  unremitting  toil,  make  good  our  deficit.  And  it  is  a 
subject  of  no  little  pride  to  me  to  reflect  that,  but  for  my 
assistance,  my  father  would  probably  never  have  attained 
this  end.  It  is  to  the  simplification  of  the  processes  of 
manufacture,  the  secret  of  which,  thanks  to  my  knowledge 
of  English,  I  was  able  to  bring  back  with  me  from  Great 
Britain  after  several  months  spent  in  investigating  the 
methods  of  the  great  refineries  of  that  country,  that  we 
are  chiefly  indebted  for  the  recent  success  of  our  opera- 
tions. 


308  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

We  have  had  no  real  sorrow  in  our  family  since  the 
year  I  left  school,  except  the  death  of  my  beloved  grand- 
father. If  he  is  no  longer  with  us  to  fondle  and  cherish 
the  little  Besnards  of  the  present  generation  as  he  did  the 
little  Besnard  of  the  previous  one,  his  memory  still  sur- 
vives at  our  fireside,  and  I  can  say  that  the  dear  shade 
continues  to  occupy  in  our  hearts  the  place  that  his 
virtues  and  kindly  nature  gained  for  him. 

M.  Pellerin,  now  a  member  of  the  Institute,  has  ever 
remained  our  faithful  and  devoted  friend,  and  will,  I  trust, 
long  preserve,  for  the  benefit  of  my  children,  a  store  of 
those  sage  maxims,  which  proved  so  advantageous  to 
Baudouin  and  me.  In  his  hours  of  leisure  he  has  always 
been  my  master  and  my  teacher.  "  You  have  a  pen,"  he 
said  to  me,  "  and  I  taught  you  how  to  use  it ;  why  let  it 
rust  in  idleness  ?  "  Instigated  by  him,  I  wrote,  under  an 
assumed  name,  several  articles  on  political  economy  for 
one  of  the  great  reviews,  and  by  doing  so,  I  was  told,  was 
the  means  of  securing  the  passage  of  more  than  one  pro- 
gressive measure.  It  is  a  treat  for  M.  Pellerin  when  I 
ask  him  to  read  my  manuscripts,  at  the  head  of  which  I 
never  fail  to  write  in  big  schoolboy  characters,  as  in  the 
old  lyc^e  days,  Lege  quceso.  My  Aunt  Aubert,  too,  reads 
them  with  fervid  interest  from  beginning  to  end.  She 
declares  that  in  all  her  reading  she  finds  nothing  half  so 
attractive.  Poor  Aunt  Aubert  ! 

M.  Desbans  has  gained  additional  reputation,  and 
relegated  to  the  shadows  of  the  past  the  sobriquet  of 
Tronc-de-C6ne  by  discovering  several  new  principles  in 
mathematics. 

As  for  M.  Aveline,  he  still  remains  professor  of  history 
at  Montaigne,  notwithstanding  the  successes  gained  almost 
yearly  by  his  pupils  at  the  concours.  It  is  those  very  sue- 


AT   THE  SORBONNE.  309 

cesses  that  endear  his  position  to  him,  and  cause  him  to 
prefer  it  to  the  grander  title  of  professor  of  the  faculty. 

Captain  Biradent,  young  still  in  heart  as  in  the  supple- 
ness of  his  corporeal  frame,  figures  in  the  Military  Annual 
as  major  in  the  territorial  army. 

Finally,  my  comrades  of  the  Lycee  Montaigne  have 
met  with  varying  fortunes,  according  as  they  have  exhib- 
ited more  or  less  wisdom  in  choosing  their  calling  and 
stuck  to  it  with  more  or  less  energy  and  determination. 

Payan,  after  directing  operations  at  the  second  tunnel- 
ing of  Mont  Cenis,  is  now  chief  engineer  of  the  trans- 
Saharian  railway.  Segol  is  professor  of  the  third  rank 
in  one  of  our  provincial  lycees.  Dutheil,  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  lawyers  of  the  Lyons  bar. 

Chavasse,  after  he  had  literally  devoured  the  small 
fortune  left  him  by  his  parents,  and  made  a  failure  of  it 
in  several  queer  callings,  wound  up  by  becoming  manager 
of  a  table  d'  note  of  some  celebrity  in  the  Quartier 
Popincourt,  over  which  he  presides  in  person  every 
evening.  His  convex  paunch  constitutes  the  establish- 
ment's best  advertisement.  He  might  have  attained 
this  glorious  result,  however,  without  wearing  out  the 
seats  of  dozens  of  pairs  of  trousers  on  the  benches  of 
the  Lycee  Montaigne. 

Thorn ereau  has  remained  constant  to  his  vocation  of 
propagating  the  pun.  When  I  last  heard  from  him  he 
was  conducting  a  small  comic  paper,  the  Jolly  Joker  s 
Exchange  I  fear  it  is  an  occupation  in  which  he  re- 
ceives more  kicks  and  cuffs  than  half-pence. 

Molecule  is  vainly  looking  for  a  publisher  for  his  com- 
plete poetical  works,  and  while  waiting  for  that  rara  avis 
to  disclose  himself,  performs  the  duties  of  bookkeeper  in 
one  of  the  great  dry  goods  shops.  He  smokes  and  snuffs 


310  SCHOOLBOY  DAYS  IN  FRANCE. 

as  assiduously  as  ever,  and  has  not  grown  an  inch,  unless 
it  be  in  his  own  estimation. 

Verschuren  is  chef  d1  escadron  in  a  huzzar  regiment,  and 
sports  one  of  the  most  magnificent  mustaches  in  the 
entire  French  army. 


THE    END. 


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1925 


SO  1932 


IN 

APR  2  3 1964 


REC.CIR.  AUG1  k  '80 

raB-  •  ^  v  * .  • 

MAY  15 1984 


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